Qbo

Himself the memory, gently of you
It is as if there were never state here
In my sleeps you appear and I feel you
You went as usual
And I ask he happened

By himself that emptied inside gently of my
And I keep it by that I feel that
It is something that you lent me
Yet not alive waiting
By you

You disappeared the way you arrived
And when wanting to touch you not these

You are a ghost that lives in me
Inside yet not one if you are real
Or by myself I join invention, and you I am surprised
In this as bitter drink
Solitude yet not alive waiting
By you

You disappeared the way you arrived
And when wanting to touch you not these there, and
As you forgot that I die without you
And to get you out I have to open

I will, look, I will, find, I will, sing in tune
I will, bleed, I will bleed

You disappeared the way you arrived
And when wanting to touch you not these there, and
As you forgot that I die without you
And to get you out I had to, I had to
I had to open.