Remember the wooden house With apparent nails and creaking boards In the nights of cold and heat If you don't understand me I will not be bornI am looking for you Wall to a refracted imaging Of the window And the imaginationRemember the wooden house The smell of earth and rain no doors Through the night of dark and light And only you can create me Or I will not be bornI am looking for you Wall to a refracted imaging Of the window And the imaginationI am looking for you Wall to a refracted imaging Of the window And the imagination
