maybe we were just kids

maybe we were just kids

when you hand me a 6 pages of your handwritten letter

maybe we were just kids

when everyone laughing badly at our freaky poetry

maybe we are different now

you had a big house and pretty wife,

smart children, oh what a perfect life

maybe it was only a curse

when you said you wanted to build a cruise ship for us

moving from one to another countryside

maybe it was all just a history

when you and i were unity

knitting some big dream

in a big city, crashing some screen

it was all gone now

and i am caught

in the middle of the no—end

buried with all of your perfect nonsense.