Can I give what is impossible to wishing for?
A pale cold November presses in every pore; what is conditional on each other is obviously. Like a bittersweet symphony. Melting hearts in the firelight, what needs rest comes to quiet. Your hand in mine, I take you in my Kingdom. And what gloomy drove you … is gone. Cosy warm, that’s how it will be, the morning, like my dream song that I singing. For you.
Im Mahlstrom 