You thought you could write his stories
A sharp breeze running through the trees
For one moment that you doubt
One hundred things move on without...
Was there really a chance to make
Something you could not take?
And while you toss and turn asleep
And anything sweeter would be
a hidden rifle in a fruit tree
Stop and think of what she means
Take a moment of your time
Anything sweeter would be

KORREKTUREN ÃœBERMITTELN