Besedila pesmi

Afi - A story at three



Again and again they blend into one, my father the morning pushes through my moonlight love.

So what's sleep?


I'm tired, so tired, but it seems that there's someone here with me.

We are the wakeful, wry and watchful.

We're awaiting.

Deathless ones.

A story at three with the shrillest of cries.

My mind fights with the sparkles in the corner of my eyes.

I hear the morning choir sing to me their elegy.

So beautiful.

They sing me their elegy.





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