Just for me the way

Why stay in the places
where my song bounces off the rocks
in the windless silence of a foreign planet?

Why stay in this places
where my song becomes the riches
                of your aridity and sorow
where my song soaks into the hot and molten sand?

When he returned, left and he, snowy one, went
every day, evenings like mornings, every night ...
When I, when he was stay ... 
                and every: Maybe tomorrow,
                just like a dream

to the glassy surfaces of the sea of shadow,
your skream
         of the dreaming of woodland meadow
the consequences of your proud and non-humble,
                insolent atomic explosions...

...memories, memories, feelings
                and light bitter emotions

entering the craters 
           of eternal unrelenting battles
indisputably as one of the holy infidels
from the love story "to be"...

Thanks, not for me.

Why stay in your lovely places
where is my song
             renewed again and again,
locked in our eternity, in your personally pain
in the space between heaven and earth
in the space between you, me and this part
           of us like neverending jazzy jam
in the places, where I dont know, who I am
where does my song turn into Requiem?

Say me, please ... Why?
Why should I die for you again?
For your holly dream,
      for your will that will never die?
Say me, please ...I am asking you,
                all the time: just why?
Why should I die for you again
in my dream, only and forever, just I?
Please tell me ... I don't understand ... Why?
Why do you want it? With me? Forever? To die?

There are also hands that embrace
and they don't ask, there is a new happy way.
They keep warm.
Hands, they always gently stay.

Because they don't have to forget.
In the concentric circles of
            what was and will be.
They are.

So far ... far ... far ... far

They stay.
... so far, far away...

far from you

and

far from only your one day

from your lonely
Just for me the way