Tell me…
Why do you water those dead flowers?
They won’t bloom ever again.
And you hold onto the pictures of your lovers.
As if you’d see them standing in the doorway again.
You know already…
All that dressing up has been in vain.
Tell me…
Why do you water those dead flowers?
They won’t bloom ever again.
And you hold onto the pictures of your lovers.
As if you’d see them standing in the doorway again.
You know already…
All that dressing up has been in vain.