Black Atlantic (The)
Dandelion
Now she walks the landThe heart of which she always belonged toOn the back waysFinding wild flowers and stonesFor a wise woman's treasuryShe set free to the windWhen the clock of her memory dispersedDandelionInto uncountable incomprehensible time capsulesFilm rearranged on the reelIn her eyes, I would always be fourfour years oldDandelionMy DandelionIt is not uncomplicated when the life of a loved one fades away
From Letras Mania