It was just good enough to know you were upstairs
No further words; no nothing, no things
Your presence is the suffering the Volga spares,
The wave to the burglars with wings.
No further words; no nothing, no things
Your presence is the suffering the Volga spares,
The wave to the burglars with wings.
No need for nothing - or anything, who knows
It was just too good to know you were around
The end is nothing but the sunrise of the blows
But what are those when the magic of you still surrounds?
It's just too good to know you exist:
Healing the scars of disbelief,
Caging the rage of misdemeanors.
It's just too good to see that within you the miracle persists.
The waters of you shall never freeze - let alone they won't ever end in the Caspian Sea.
You are the flood hope dives in
And to wherever your sight leads,
- I'm very sure indeed -
Joy will follow, everlastingly.
