This is the crying tree, the tree which looks me through the window. This tree knows almost everything about me: how much do I actually sleep, or how much anger was felt between those walls in the last 4 years.
The tree also knows that I'm such a fool... (and you can complete with what the song says, because I'm not going to do it, I do not need to feel such pain)
The tree knows, he feels the same.
1 notas musicales:
Nuestras cosas nos conocen como nosotros queremos ser conocidos, o más bien entendidos.
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