She loves sick and homeless dogs
and she couldn't stand people.
The night is open for her and she doesn't need the day.
She loves to leave in to the sunset, but dawn on guard, she doesn't fear,
So why are you beside yourself, when she is not here?
She wanders through the city following the rain,
every now and then changing the route,
And you won't catch up with her neither there nor here.
She can say " Till tomorrow", and disappear for a few years.
So why are you beside yourself, when she is not here?
She is on her own, she does not want to hide
even the most simple things,
It's pity, that night without her became nobody's,
It's pity, that like a smoke of her cigarettes, her voice disappeared.
So why are you beside yourself, when she is not here?