Snow has fallen down last night White town reflects the daylight
I see the latch on the iron gate
I think : « We're locked down again »

A guitar with rusty strings
Brings tears on my cheeks
A wistful tune floats in the room
A melody from the moon

CONFUSED THOUGHTS BANG IN MY HEAD I REMEMBER THE LAST WORDS SHE SAID AND ECHOES OF HER SOOTHING VOICE THEY MAKE THE WORLD SPIN AROUND

These four walls are not my jail Cos' l'm locked into myself
My mind has fiddled around for days
And now I feel the outside world lt springs up from my bones
As light cornes in through the cracks in the wall

And once again
CONFUSED THOUGHTS BANG IN MY HEAD Your fears are gone away
I REMEMBER THE LAST WORDS SHE SAID And through the glass we see
AND ECHOES OF HER SOOTHING VOICE Better days for you and me
THEY MAKE THE WORLD SPIN AROUND

We won't wage war again Our fight is over then
The battlefield was left behind
Snow has f allen down last night
And white town shines in the moonlight

« lt is for this reason that most of us would rather love than be loved. Almost everyone wants to be the lover. And the curt truth is that, in a deep secret way, the state of being beloved is intolerable to many. The beloved fears and hates the lover, and with the best of reasons. For the lover is forever trying to strip bare his beloved. The lover craves any possible relation with the beloved, even if this experience can cause him only pain. »