Sometimes...

    Sometimes...
    I feel I am getting too old
    to dream more than this
    Sometimes...
    I feel I am becoming too cold
    to scream more than this
    Sometimes...
    I just can not hold
    the beam of moonlight

         Descending on me...
         Calling me back from my darkness...
         Calling me back from my madness...
         Calling me back from my loneliness...
         Returning to you...

The heart knows of reasons,
that reasons don't know nothing of
and understands the seasons,
that keep falling on and off

The heart is mine,
but the reasons are not.
its opened veins shine,
but the seasons do not.

    Though...
    my age is getting old
    to dream more than this
    and though...
    my skin is becoming cold
    to scream more than this
    Sometimes...
    I just can not hold
    the beam of moonlight

         Descending on me...
         Calling me back from my darkness...
         Calling me back from my madness...
         Calling me back from my loneliness...
         Returning to you...


*K
MARCH
*Y
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