The season of living alone
I have forbidden nights
Here are some dreams
But the interpreter is dead
Sitting at the central gate of the "Goal Bagh"
There is a watchman-like boredom.
That will never end
I have a village blacksmith
Which made for the farmers
Make new cracks on the crust
But one night the crops were destroyed
I have a sad sadness
In the days of Quarantina
An angel ... under my pillow ...
Forgot about it
I have everything
Except for the rare ones,
That i'll steal
From a coffin maker
Or the old one who always smokes expensive cigarettes ...
I have forbidden nights
Here are some dreams
But the interpreter is dead
Sitting at the central gate of the "Goal Bagh"
There is a watchman-like boredom.
That will never end
I have a village blacksmith
Which made for the farmers
Make new cracks on the crust
But one night the crops were destroyed
I have a sad sadness
In the days of Quarantina
An angel ... under my pillow ...
Forgot about it
I have everything
Except for the rare ones,
That i'll steal
From a coffin maker
Or the old one who always smokes expensive cigarettes ...
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