The room had a window
Looking at the eternal drizzle
Of the saddest city in the world.
You know: our eyes see what we feel.
For me it was a rain of dying water.
Each droplet had its own immense solitude.
The room had a window
Looking at the eternal drizzle
Of the saddest city in the world.
You know: our eyes see what we feel.
For me it was a rain of dying water.
Each droplet had its own immense solitude.