Sinner, sinner
I’m a sinner
I don’t want to go home
Because I’ll find a riddle
That always gives me a shiver
I’ll find the things that fall in winter
I’ll find the memories of this one sinner
That never managed to cross the river
I can still see that wine that dripped from the vines
That river of silence that stands between the lines
We never get to say the words
We never get to hear the quotes
So, I’ll sleep and you’ll play your cords
Let me hear again the sounds
For, there’ll be no snow tonight or tomorrow
But before I die, make me feel again, your sweet sorrow.