Barunka left

Red trams
Squeaking so much at the stops
Sparkling their electric horns
They have got those chill inner lights
As well as those immobile figures
Crestfallen bodies walking fast
In silence, giving out vapour
Avoiding stepping on the snow
I don't, I like its "crack"
Hating the whole life we've got to pass through
I tried so hard spending time with someone who could
Hear my voice beyond my voice but that's not real
Bacause they always smile too much
They smile too much to be sincere
That's what it seems to me
Unless I lock my door
Facing the other world
Sharing flight with those kind birds