Testo di Tenth Month

I'll stare at the ground At places you've been I'll stab with my thoughts Your mouth in my mind Numb you've made me Cold from the flame Numb from the fire that burns my hand still A tear tends to form In corners of mind I know in small parts Your view of me now Wrung from my grip The things that i have Wrung from my sight So closely i held What i cannot see Tears me inside This silence i've found My head in my hands