كلمات Tops

The trees are naked but at their tops The last leaves are fighting for what they've got Days growing shorter and I'm still lost And I've been wishing for what I'm not Dreams, vivid like the morning Like the air, the cold on of its first morning Remember the night that I lost my soul there Slowly giving every existent, what then Choking out the words you made them right Said you heard the instinct in that night Miles of goddamn mighty army Saying it's no latin, it's so holy