You are my guardian. my gold seal.
you're a saint, as the people of the national pilaf.
days now and I do not say nothing
without saying a word or two about love.
I though at night, insomnia could be rushed to you.
mangled problems, and thus the wood.
influence on me cry to silence
about love, without saying a word.
I have the feelings that would b on every corner shouting
at all the stations of subway lines.
and how nice to sleep at night,
knowing you, it's my gut.