There is always the sound
Are you hearing it too
How it’s weird living inside the town
Empty days without you
There is always a fall
But it happened too soon
How can I see the living all around
When I struggle with you
There is always a clock
Gods beyond, by the curve
What’s the point to give in
To desperation? to desperation…
Youth in the sun drowned in broken seas
Cruising the summer sands
Despite all the bruises coming from the side
You’ll always be young and amused (and amused)
I miss you…