Somewhere there is a place
where a girl writes love letters to the wind
while others eat blue and yellow ice cream on the beach,
and the waves of the ocean
...
From now on
I will only love
the girls with scars.
Somebody else can have
...
In locul cu stele, ea inca danseaza,
cu marele Atlantic la picioarele ei,
pe un pretios petic de nisip si aur
ce l-a furat dintr-o inima uitata pe o masa.
...
And I can feel your heart, restless,
turning in my palm, like a bonfire
that dreams of being a fallen star,
or like a new born, in it's crib
...
The shadow of her lips.
Even the walls are being kissed
more often.
Even the streets.
...
I have slaughtered little children
with my seven holy knives.
They were all of Eve's kin,
sinners.
...
I did stumble in my dreams
on you
again,
yesterday.
...
She tells me
I am a martyr
of my own ideas,
that the world
...
She calls me a martyr
of my own ideas.
She says the world
has never been kinder,
...
She calls me a martyr
of my own ideas.
She says the world
has never been kinder,
...