A keresés eredménye

Don’t get used to me

Do not get used to me. It’s the habit
the tenderest of killers ill repute.
I shall be the trace routine days inhabit,
of ordinariness having sipped.
 
I’ll become the mystery of dusty rooms
by the wedding ring encircled.
A Stranger’s fate let be my doom
and yet my face let be recalled.
 
Do not get used to me. We are gods.
To the eternity we’re destined.
The two of our secret roads
In heavens' clouds lie shrouded.
 
So be it, my embraces having crumpled,
in others comfort you’ll find, so let it be.
To Stranger’s fate leave me humbled,
Quell not our love. Don’t get used to me.
 
Don’t get used to me. Don’t do it.
I’ll continue to exist as I did in the past.
The lifestyle of comfort, hellish pit
where emotions burned to ashes cast.
 
And hurting each other out of spite,
We will live inflicting wounds.
Then, at the spring’s height
Still a wanted Stranger, I'd better leave.
You will remember me fondly.
Don’t get used to me.
Don’t get used to me.