And you come back like this,
to my world like this, unpredictably.
You draw me back to you.
You take over me,
me who is like some cloudless rain,
a clock with no time.
A thunder with no lightning without you.
Tell me who you are when you return,
a verse looking for a poem?
Or perhaps you're my answer
but of that which I never ask.
Tell me who you are when you return,
a sound looking for harmony?
Or perhaps you're the faraway nostalgia
of a dream that's already gone.
And you come back to me,
in the end, it's quite easy
because I'm a shoreless river,
a starless universe.
A pageless book without you.
Tell me who you are when you return,
a trick looking for magic?
Or perhaps you're the mystery
I will never know how to explain.
Tell me who you are when you return,
an idea looking for a fantasy?
Or perhaps you're the faraway nostalgia
of a dream that's already gone.
Of a dream that's already gone.
Of a dream that's already gone, gone.
A dream.
And you come back like this,
to my world like this, unpredictably.