Hurting Sight

If you only knew about my deep whispers
You would not ask questions about my shadowy past
Everything has been answered in January
Even the questions you might never utter in July

August is windy while we cross the chaos city
Sunset is for lovers not for skeptikal faces
We are obliged to hide our inner debility
While the leaves fall down on october traces

We have butterfly tongues
The taste of life tend to unknown ways
If you only knew about my deep whispers
You'd never change my bitter sweet landscape
You'd never, never change your hurting sight...