The Streets

You left, we stayed, all behind is ours,
the room, the bed, these walls that talk, the pieces, each one of them.
The cups, the glass, we still in here until we are replaced by ghosts,
They´ll haunt our halls for us.

We walked the line between these sheets,
and everything reminds me of our decay, time after time.
The moon, the tar, our feet, our bags,
And these wall again are ours, they bend and they breathe for us.

And these streets will be just streets again
And these streets will be just streets again