After supper I will go out for a walk
I’ll wander through the woods near the family house
I’ll speak to the trees and they’ll speak to me
( It took me some times before I understand )
Sitting on the bank of the river where I was born
I throw stones away, waiting for the storm
( I know It’s coming soon when It’s silent in the woods )
Will we stay here forever?
Will we live over and over?
Will the wind wash our minds off the filthy thoughts we had sometimes?