Eyes waiting for the curve of the road , the fears of the pure and simple heart , the open window and the autumn sunset, the rain in the wet street, the
memory of you, every narrow of the evening, beats in my heart, my share of being with you, the bitter sorrow of the sunset, the sunset has always been a sign of you for me, for me there is nothing but that,
the eyes waiting for the bend of the road , the fears of the pure and simple heart, the open window and the autumn sunset, I do not The rain in the wet street, the
memory of you beats in my heart every narrow sunset, my share of being with you, the bitter sadness of the sunset, the sunset has always been a sign of you for me, for me, there is nothing but that,
in the minds of the familiar alleys filled with autumn, you are not your golden body, and my existence and the dry branch of the ivy of loneliness, the
memory of you beats every narrow sunset in my heart , my share of being with you. The bitter sadness of the sunset has always been a sign of you for me, for me there is nothing but that.
