Luca Fogale Gloria, Continued
In all of these thoughts
I feel a silence
And finally, here
A sort of rest
And everything we had
Washed clean of novelty, at last
For all that you're worth
I leave you slowly
With temperate breath
And softened step
While, nothing but your dreams
And your waking hours are left
But everything is folded up
Everything is folded up
So, eventually I
Will wake in stillness
Desperate for
What I felt last
Oh, but all the times that I
Hеld you in selfish greed have passed
Oh all thе times that I held you in selfish greed have passed
