everything's imaginary, even the truthi picked my words casually,like a bored childon a picnic,pulling weeds from the ground.(i don't remember what we spoke of, butafterwards we walked homewith our eyes locked to the pavement).and i just don't understand,why you hold onto melike a precious secret.i am always disoriented by daydream landscapes,reality passes me by in an instant,a departing train.and you have to pull me back, to grey citiesand pedestrian crossings.(i'd be lost without you,but youwould be happier, wouldn't you?)
reachi.don't whisper secretsto raindrops, they'llonly betray you,one day they'll crash down,and everybodywill know.(never trust, never love).ii.i was soaked in rain, and youwere soaked in regrets, andwe are all strangersin a way. (when we don't know what to say, we talk about the weather).and we are useless and torn, like scrap metalwaiting to be recycled. but don'tlet the shame linger,don'terase us.