The Beatles were singing together,
But you always was all alone.
Your solo was desolate whether
It was a romance or a song.
And only at night, while dreaming,
You sang with your brother and friend.
Oh, you had that wonderful feeling
The melody would never end.
It ended. The morning came close
And took all your dreams far away.
Too often, too often life shows
We can not choose music to play.
To Elvis Presley
© Copyright: Ксения Манихина, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125082504233
Свидетельство о публикации №125082504233
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