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Samstag, 5. Januar 2008

Alea iacta est

My girl went out, to met some friends,

i stayed at home, with empty hands.

Late in the night, i went to sleep,

i dreamed not good, i dreamed not deep.

Early i woke up, after a nightmare,

i looked around, she was not there.

I closed my eyes, for hours i cried,

my girl was not there, the last night she died.

I woke up smiling, with sun in my heart,

the life is so nice, if you tread it smart.

I thought she let me, she was not there,

but it was not my life, it was the life of her.

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