I examine my favorite state of yours, as I watch you sleeping..
Your hair is scattered, the pillow's print is on your face.
Just like a Sunday's breakfast.
In the middle of your tiny tricks, and your huge wars,
Our love was limited by a certain amount.
Just like a night sleep on Sunday..
Whatever I do, it doesn't return,
it doesn't return like the old times.
Nobody, makes me laugh, or even cry,
as you do..
Whatever I do, it doesn't return,
it doesn't return like the old times
Nobody, makes me laugh, or even cry,
as you do..
[EMRE AYDIN & MODEL]
We both are recognizing, that our love must end here.
If so, then why are we both still crying..?
Whatever I do, it doesn't return,
it doesn't return like the old times
Nobody, makes me laugh, or even cry,
as you do..