The Memories
I’ve got this feeling. This strange feeling.
It is stuck, deep down in my soul.
It is stuck there, I cannot reach it.
I do not know how this feeling is like.
Maybe it is a beautiful thought of you,
something I have forgotten about.
How can I ever forget about you?
Maybe the feeling is a dark and sad memory of her.
Her, that piece of whore, both you and me knew. Our friend.
I remember a room, candles, a bed.
Black, curly, long hair wrangled upon your face.
Tiny and pale hands around your body.
Your blue eyes, watching her every move.
I remembered a scream. A terrible and painful scream…
I’ve got this feeling, a warm memory deep down in my mind.
A child.
A small hand in mine.
Two little feets running cross the floor.
A sound of laughter in the garden.
He is my happiness. My pride. My child.
A child with my mind and colours.
And your eyes...
Maybe the feeling is a dark and sad memory of her.
Her, that piece of whore, both you and me knew. Our friend.
I remember a room, candles, a bed.
Black, curly, long hair wrangled upon your face.
Tiny and pale hands around your body.
Your blue eyes, watching her every move.
I remembered a scream. A terrible and painful scream…
I’ve got this feeling, a warm memory deep down in my mind.
A child.
A small hand in mine.
Two little feets running cross the floor.
A sound of laughter in the garden.
He is my happiness. My pride. My child.
A child with my mind and colours.
And your eyes...
Nutley -06
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