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Patrick the Pan
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Exiles Always Come Back
Finally the wind has blown
It took away your skeleton
But there will always be, a little bone…
Finally I've raised the walls
An exile will not come back home
But there'll always be, a little hole…
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.
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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
I will
I will never
I will never learn…
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