All I´m saving deep under my mind, still locked
are the words you wrote in some old letters.
The kind man beneath the story teller,
has gone away before oficially arriving.
I looked up for anything I could remember,
and got stressed out for a postcard unread.
Had waited for something to revive me,
but lost my senses when I found it.
Where´s that time when you were mine
and why our world has crumbled down?
How I lost you in the middle of nowhere
why before i could call myself yours?