You threw my box of roses in the street...
I had hidden some folded dreams out there,
they were still wet and you had no idea about them.
I ran away searching through the garbage,
looking for old my t-shirt with long dreams
I used to wear it when I first met you...

I hurry and the bowl of tiny little paticles of silence
are falling down from my pocket.
Does anybody wish to curse the moon for me?