You thought about it for the first time in years
How would it happen
What would you leave behind
Not a letter, not money, not immortal art
Not a last word.
You would leave a picture of a tough human
Who played for love
For the deep laugh of echo
Which died when it lit up
Memory of round face's
Of a skinny face
A legend of a great winner
You thought about it for the first time in years
The colour of the sky
The slower movement of the ground
No regretting
No music
no best clothes
No panic
You would leave a picture of a tough human
Who played for love
For the deep laugh of echo
Which died when it lit up
Memory of round face's
Of a skinny face
A legend of a great winner
No regretting
No music
No best clothes
No panic
No panic
No panic
No panic
No regretting
No immortal art
No panic
No panic
No panic
No panic
You would leave a picture of a tough human
Who played for love
For the deep laugh of echo
Which died when it lit up
Memory of round face's
Of a skinny face
A legend of a great winner
No regretting
No music
No immoral art
No panic
No panic
No panic
No regretting
No music
No best clothes
No panic
No panic
No panic
No regretting
No music
No best clothes
No panic
No panic
No panic
No panic
You thought about it for the first time in yers
The colour of the sky
The slower movement of the ground