Words dont mean a thing
Actions dont either
What matters is what I feel
What matters is the cure
Yourself is a mirror of a man I hate
I didnt want you to be him
But its too late
Theres a place I go when theres no snow
A rock, it's relaxing and old
That is where I pretend away my life
That is where everything is right
Theres a place
It knows my face
Theres a place
It knows my taste
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem