two days in Frankfurt
I'm not thinking, these things write theirselves... This is my story not written by me it's written through me. Little thouhgts, emotions, flowing through my veins, reaching my fingertips making my thouhgts float over paper. Like a boat on the sea, like my breath over you, skin on skin in the morning time. This warm autumm wind, guiding us, comforting me being my friend on the way home. This is what i mean, je denkt ec gewaas niet over ma.