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A cold wind is blowing from the sea |
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Yet I'm walking barefoot |
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on the shoreline (bearing to my destiny) |
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Words of fire burn like salt in my blisters |
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And frozen whispers represent my enemy |
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All has fallen to the sea |
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Why do I still feel the heat? |
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Are your whispers frost or fire? |
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Am I drawn to these extremes by a |
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never resting need, |
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or the angel of desire |
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But it was not always so... |
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We used to share a destiny |
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Am I imagining, or do I see you |
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walking towards me? |
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Put your hand in mine, pull me closer |
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There are no more words that burn |
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or frozen whispers on the waves |
