Visitors
Det blev inte mycket skrivet när jag tog fram Abbas sista (förlåt, senaste) skiva ur hyllan. Eller också var det just vad det blev, även om orden inte är mina …
The books, the paintings and the furniture.
Pushing through unknown jungles every day.
In our lives we have walked, some strange and lonely treks.
You’d think that nothing in the world was wrong.
Voices call out to me, straight to my heart.
They passed me by, all of those great romances.
”If you dream, of the girl for you …” (I wish I had a wife.)
The funny tricks of time.
And it all comes back to me tonight.
Should I laugh or cry?
Without really knowing anything, I hid a part of me away.
But now again, you were lost from the start.
Come and rescue me now ’cause I’m falling apart.
*