I might believe you or maybe not.
But I'm sure like every single stitch of this weave
That we'll remain.
It doesn't matter if you bury you down some more,
and everyone forgets you...
'Cuz I know someday I'll meet the grave that we
will share not a single day more.
Memories, turning back to them
what love and hate despised.
Memories, turning back to me
what ever may rest in my past.
So through a broken mirror we will pass.
And a thousand or more heartbeats
will be waiting us to
show us our path...
And there is no one else...
but we all, souls under the same red sky.
And I won't forget...
the sweetness of a child's look
without any fear inside.
