Patrick the Pan
exiles always come back
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Finally the wind has blown
It took away your skeleton
But there will always be, a little boneâ¦
Finally I've raised the walls
An exile will not come back home
But there'll always be, a little holeâ¦
Words are always braver at night.
We met too early, we both now.
And I was cutting, the branch I was sitting on.
If You come closer, listen to my chest,
You'd hear nothing, but yet I'm still not dead.
And You,
You're telling we're all right,
But We are two different rainbows,
Over two different cities.
We are two different cities.
I will
I will never
I will never learnâ¦