I picked the colors you left behind,
on the boulevards of the blind.
Some were black and some were grey,
but most were like a brilliant day.
Followed the flowers that slipped from your hair,
through the meadows, islands and where nobody dare.

Ancient cities on every inch of your skin,
crumbled down from their own sin.
You stood alone against the tempest,
while giving my heart a home to rest.
In your embrace I find a night so divine,
cool as a spring breeze, tastes like moonshine.

You carry the children of my favorite dreams,
of a house on a valley where the sunlight gleams.
Footsteps of your damaged and tired feet,
lands on my garden, where oceans meet.
It is here, where I want you to be my forever,
it is here, where tragedy would deny us never.
It is here, where I want to be buried, underneath your sky,
it is here, where the lovers of Greek tragedies lie.