Ane Brun gör min själ lite mindre trasig.
it´s the changing of the seasons
he says ”I need them”
I guess I’m too Scandinavian
the relief of spring
intoxication of summer rain
the clearness of fall
how winter makes me reconsider it all
restlessness is me, you see
it´s hard to be safe
it´s difficult to be happy
and then she awakes
reaches for the embrace
he decides not
to worry about seasons again
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