The night was young. The moon was pale.
The wind was soft. Still you were here.
And I was telling you my fairytale
about us – we're some where out there.

In every movment of the waves in ocean
In every breath of wind in cooling air;
In mountains hight without a proportion -
we were there,.. we flyed without fear.

And then we fell... we fell in love with danger
to wear bodies of the mortal humans.
And everything went wrong, went very strange.
We couldn't turn all back. No sence of humor.

So night is over soon and I assume You're gone.
I'm watching moon which look so deadly pale.
How could it be, we get our selves so down?
And story of the love is just a stupid fairytale.

26.04.2012