The lunar piano was on earthly-dreaming.
The melody of dark it was creeply playing.
Who would believe the word that has spoken
A forgetful clock that has always been broken?
So why do I have in my chest the feeling,
that my lonely heart is for someone waiting?
Of my pleasant future some lovely foresïght
could you please give me, sleepy monlïght?
Like an apple that is so wet of remembering
Kiss me like a girl that has just been waking
A book that I open again, as I open a wound
This time I know the bell for both will sound
