Not in glory, not in mist, baby the fire doesn’t extinguish in the love you felt in the beginning. I sense your surrounding being corrupted, replaced by the lover you married to. Rainstorm have the sovereignty still doesn’t strive, I feel sorry as I couldn’t help you but evaporate in your memories. Bounded by fences of those horrible dreams, awake in the nights of Christmas waiting for my blessings. The snowfalls in the flames of my existence, I want it to stay a little more. I want you to dwell in my almighty’s presence.
The fire keeps me warm as my mama’s love, the tenderness I feel living in her knitted sweater. My whole existence is a falsehood as there is nothing which could extinguish the fire, that burnt my happiness and now keeping comfortable.