She's the owner of a calmness which melts and is contagious
Of a magic which is a sublime guessing game,
She, she can catch up to me if she likes; but she doesn't fall out of the sky
All she knows is that silence
Has a bad taste.
She's the owner of a past darker than her hair
Of a handkerchief soaked in discouragement and vengeance
She walks but doesn't move forward,
She doesn't rise up from the ground
All she knows is that silence
Has a bad taste.
And she'll leave you like so sleeping like so
Not knowing what to do or what to say
And she'll take you like so exhausted like so
Because that's how she is
She's a devil; she's a saint
She's all of which I adore
She's medicine for your heart,
She's a devil; she's a saint
Be mindful of everything she does
She's a mystery who will break your heart
And not regret it
She's the owner of my blood
of my jealousy, of my hunger
of a never ending wish
of a light that won't turn off
She, she can catch up to me if she likes; but she doesn't fall out of the sky
All she knows is that silence
Has a bad taste.
And she'll leave you like so sleeping like so
Not knowing what to do or what to say
And she'll take you like so exhausted like so
Because that's how she is
She's a devil; she's a saint
She's all of which I adore
She's medicine for your heart,
She's a devil; she's a saint
Be mindful of everything she does
She's a mystery who will break your heart
And not regret it
The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources.
-Albert Einstein