My fountains

I always think about you,
When the weather is good
When everything tastes sweet
When the days are long
And I know there’s nothing we can’t do

I think about you and your sunny streets
I think about you and try to picture myself there
In your orange sunset

I want to dive into your concrete
Wash my hair in your fountains
and get buried in your fortress

I fantacise

The truth is you are the dead artist
I want to know everything about

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