To the spring that has passed,
whose blooming lilacs
I tape to the wall of memories
in my home,
I wait in a cloud of rain
(drowning drowning drowning),
hidden from the prying eyes
and sighs of hyena-like cries
for warmer days to return.
To the spring that has passed,
whose blooming lilacs
I tape to the wall of memories
in my home,
I wait in a cloud of rain
(drowning drowning drowning),
hidden from the prying eyes
and sighs of hyena-like cries
for warmer days to return.