Words...
He lets me listen,
when he moves me,
Words are not
like other words
He takes me,
from under my arms
He plants me,
in a distant cloud
And the black rain
in my eyes
Falls in torrents,
torrents
He carries me
with him,
he carries me
To an evening
of perfumed balconies
And I am like a child
in his hands
Like a feather carried
by the wind
He carries for me
seven moons
in his hands
and a bundle of songs
He gives me sun,
he gives me summer
and flocks of swallows
He tells me that
I am his treasure
And that I am equal
to thousands of stars
And that I am treasure,
and that I am
more beautiful than
he has seen of paintings
He tells me things
that make me dizzy
that make me
forget the dance
and the steps
Words which overturn
my history
which make me
a womanin seconds
He builds castles
of fantasies
which I live in...
for seconds...
And I return...
I return to my table
Nothing with me...
Nothing with me...
except words
when he moves me,
Words are not
like other words
He takes me,
from under my arms
He plants me,
in a distant cloud
And the black rain
in my eyes
Falls in torrents,
torrents
He carries me
with him,
he carries me
To an evening
of perfumed balconies
And I am like a child
in his hands
Like a feather carried
by the wind
He carries for me
seven moons
in his hands
and a bundle of songs
He gives me sun,
he gives me summer
and flocks of swallows
He tells me that
I am his treasure
And that I am equal
to thousands of stars
And that I am treasure,
and that I am
more beautiful than
he has seen of paintings
He tells me things
that make me dizzy
that make me
forget the dance
and the steps
Words which overturn
my history
which make me
a womanin seconds
He builds castles
of fantasies
which I live in...
for seconds...
And I return...
I return to my table
Nothing with me...
Nothing with me...
except words
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