I see shadows behind the windows I hear rustle of somebody's steps I don’t think that is madness But I precisely one in this place
I feel cold in the tips of my fingers But I open a door of my faith The flown wind brings the winters No one will hear my prays
I feel sight at myself all the time Two damn sparks break through the night the loneliness sometimes has an aim But I do not think that it is right
I don’t believe in a life behind a mirror Each thing has a beginning and the end And when one of them is nearer and nearer You will see a demon into a friend
When all the way behind
It was the last chance to meet one another After all people who lived on the earth You was siting about the dead father Last woman or may be the first