Every day I come to your alley, looking for your footsteps, only my steps and the pavement of this sidewalk, I come to the alley in your alley, which is empty of you, but still in the air, I come from you, I knock on the door of your house in the house where you left, and I know that there is no one in your house
, I sit happily on the stairs of your house behind the closed door of this house. I sit empty and go to the stairs of your house, thinking about that day, I remember next to you, how good the past was, how good the past was,
my heart says that one day you will come back to the window , you know well that your lover is waiting behind the door, you know that in the garden flower yard, butterflies are drying up, feathered and pigeons are feathered, you know what happened to my day, maybe someone has told you this day. Now Im bad, you know, everyone says that then I went crazy with no one next door and I became a neighbor with sadness, I became a housemate with sadness,
I sit on the stairs of your house with happiness, I sit at the closed door of this empty house, I go to the stairs of your house, thinking about that day , I remember next to you, how good were the past, how good were the past, I
remember a flower branch for you. The love of that day is a handful of dirt for me by remembering the past, remembering the past.
