Hey man
can you remember those pats? Can you bring back the scent of the oleanders?
Hey man
Don’t throw away those memories, they are made of golden clewes, the sun was over our heads.
But all the night long we were only spanned by the eternity sense.
Hey man
Can you still feel the warmth on our skin, and the chill water’s drops along our back.
Can you still sense children’s hands between your hands?
Hey man, do you remember those times? Times in which you were pure, chaste and so naive.
Hey man, do you remember how was being alive fire, and not only dust?
I remeber everything old sport. I miss this. I miss breathing youth. |