e eu apenas sou mais um, um a mais a falar dessa dor, a nossa dor.

Tu vois quelqu'un m'a dit
Que tu m'aimais encore, me l'a t'on vraiment dit
Que tu m'aimais encore, serais ce possible alors?

There is a wind where the rose was;
Cold rain where sweet grass was;
And clouds like sheep
Stream o'er the steep
Grey skies where the lark was.

Nought gold where your hair was;
Nought warm where your hand was;
But phantom, forlorn,
Beneath the thorn,
Your ghost where your face was.

Sad winds where your voice was;
Tears, tears where my heart was;
And ever with me,
Child, ever with me,
Silence where hope was.

yes, i’m drunk. and you’re beautiful. and tomorrow morning, i’ll be sober but you’ll still be beautiful.