Words

The space is brimful of all the stated words
And nothing left to tell us new to this world…
I saw these words flying from the different mouths
I saw them in the books of a many different styles
I saw them sitting on a lines like tired birds
Waiting for the reader to become a flying Lords
Don’t you feel?
The space filled by all pronounced words
And the mind is thrilled by weakness by the closed doors
Closed doors…

The doors of world where we are managed by another Lord
We do not need interpreters of soul and thoughts
Soul and thoughts…
Silent thoughts
Silent thoughts

We surrounded by the million stated words
We’ve gone in slavery for literal connections
And you will hear some words in my moody songs
But I feel: it’s only dying force
it’s only dying force
it’s only dying force

The doors of world where we are managed by another Lord
We do not need interpreters of soul and thoughts
Soul and thoughts…
Silent thoughts
Silent thoughts