Morbid Death - Memories | Текст песни

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• Morbid Death
• Memories

alone are the ones of myself who fly again
by memory I envy you all

I cannot go to places
where I was happy
or places where I could be

there is no direction
the streets are empty - of dust and sea
and a boat is never near or far - or close to me
and I am magically not the sea
not the wind but nothing that can be

I envy you all

I envy all of you who come back to me
memory of a rock, sand or tree

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