I stand at the end of the world.
Where the birds fly away.
I’m singing the song to the wind.
This usually angels tell.
I close your clearest eyes,
The ones that make me cry.
I make all dreams come true,
Those that make us fly.
Birds will sing about our happiness,
And we’ll only see the light.
We will drown in our defenseless.
There are only peace and love.
You’re flying so high again…
So, as don’t angels fly.
Your soul is telling me about you.
I know it’s not a lie.
Share with me your secret,
Which would make me a part of you.
Everything seems just a dream,
Those, which is a true.
Euphoria
© Copyright: Юлия Гуманова, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112121307068
Свидетельство о публикации №112121307068
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