Lost in the moment
The smoke surrounds them
In the city there’s nobody
Only burnt wood smell
Soft, Muted colors
Warm, dry air
They stand like they were killers
On every street to stare

Go, dream on, leftovers
Feels like four-leaf clovers
Do Blind People See Things in Their Dreams?
Will ashes get colder?

Love in the nightfall
Two hearts that never melt
They are waiting in the twilight
For the fire to brighten them
When the moon turns indigo
When the dark turns off the heat
The wind sings a cappella
Whose voice was faint and sweet

Go, dream on, leftovers
Feels like four-leaf clovers
Do Blind People See Things in Their Dreams?
Will ashes get colder?