You don’t even have a hearing But I tell you just in case anyway If I leave this place and you are left here Always stay chimerical
It’s not just the winters that cause frost Or gloomy blurry autumns that make you lost My womb is not as gloomy as this bed It’s more like a tomb when you’re on earth
The good ones make no child
You don’t even have the force of seeing But I show just in case anyway Without fantasy you’ll go down the drain Always stay utopian
And I wish you hot summers of excess And irrational springtime fondness Until then make my womb your favorite bed I can’t handle the thought that you’ll get hurt
