Where do wild boars go to die, you asked me once. And whose bones are these on which this city sleeps. Forget about God standing between us; Love me like life like a song you write love me like love like dust that we become.
Try it, close your eyes, and light the darkness. Tell me about your fears about people who leaves. On the way to nothing we will become a good story; Love me like life like a song you write love me like love like dust that we become.
Everything I have is in me, remember this day once it's all over and when there is no us. On the way to nothing we are still an eye ahead; Love me like life like a song you write love me like love like dust that we become.
Where are the streets of happiness, which we used to go? Where are the wires that connected us? In every fear is a name In every name is a child; Love me like life like a song you write love me like love like dust that we become.
I'm trying, I close my eyes and I light the darkness. I'm flying to that place where we chased the moon and watching meteors, who fly across the sky like white rabbits in the night. I can forget everything but not a question "where wild boars go to die?" I love you like life like a song I write i love you like love like dust that we become.
It was raining that day when was the last time we walked as a couple. Everything was wet, I remember she didn't want to hide under my jacket, she said she wanted to get wet when there were no more tears to cry. And so we went, despite the rain. We passed the old cinema first, with that crooked board that used to shine with the title of the movie being shown. She said "this cinema will never work again", and I thought it didn't matter anymore, our film is just ending.
Then we passed by the park, and as if out of spite, I saw our bench looking at us disappointed, and in that autumn rain, a little sad. We continued further down a street She stepped on the bar and wet her feet I undressed and gave her my sneakers and I continued barefoot next to her. We looked funny, like a fools, but no one laughed at us, and I know why It was raining.
We passed an old coal processing plant, the wind carried coal dust and the rain made her face dirty, I looked at her and remembered the scene forever, and as I see her now, so sad and smeared with coal, she looked like Scarlett O'Hara, on some black and white movie set some rain to remember, some rain to foreget.
At the end of the street, where the kids sell candy on the stalls, I bought her a lollipop and we stopped in front of an old photo shop. I looked at her and without ask got the answer "Why not". We took our last picture, as a souvenir. It was raining and wetting the pictures so that no matter how hard we tried to separate them carefully, my bare feet remained in her picture and her hand with a lollipop in mine. Maybe it was a sign, who knows It was raining.
Love will find you, in desert fields, in lust for water, when your skin burn by sun, in an endless amount of sand, she will come with a slight sigh, like a light wind from the north, and you will not hear her name, but you'll know she was life's worth. And while in a trance instead of water you imagine her kiss, you will call persistently "Miss...", "Miss..." And you will fall asleep with the most beautiful dream, as her hand touches your face, and you'Il dream of the ocean's swim, as her hand still leads you to a nicer place. everything becomes mystical, like a magician's trick memories flood in, voices mute in shady, and you feel a gentle pinprick, as you drop your voice "Please help me, Lady" With all stenght open your eyes, you're traveling somewhere west, her sweet face smiled slightly and her voice as the most wonderful music "Sir, you need to rest"