Slowly the air grows chillier
And the gray unconscious clouds
Dreaming of rain or snow
Cover the deserted town
Of my mind population one
I have the feeling I'm being
Looked at but there's
No one here except my angel
Who of course is simply
Waiting to be seen
Who believes in me
But doesn't speak a word
I have the feeling I don't exist at all
Except as she is keeping me in her gaze
Breathing me in and out
These nights these days
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