one day, when tenderness is the only rule of the morning,

I will wake up in your arms. your bright eyes are perhaps the most beautiful

and the light will understand the impossible understanding of love.

one day, when the rain dries in memory, when the winter is gone

so far away, when the cold responds slowly with a slurred voice

of an old man, I will be with you and the birds will sing on the windowsill

our window. yes, the birds will sing, there will be flowers, but none of that

it's gonna be my fault cuz i'll wake up in your arms and i won't say

not a word, not the beginning of a word, so as not to spoil

the perfection of happiness.

dedicated to lord estok