When you’ll leave the red city
Every wall will fade away
In the warm wind we used to stay.
Towers and churches must join the ground
Whistling breeze, from where there’s no sound.
And there’s no if in when
For everything have to end.
Houses and streets, whole world
Tourning down
Haunted past for a feeling so vast.
Will you name a mountain after me?
Or a cliff, maybe?
I don’t know what to say
You’re flattering me
While you’re turning me away.
