The interconnectedness between fallen leaves of autumn and the act of letting go,
This time I don't need hope, I guess i figured out that I'll always find a way to glow.
Every part of me I've ever lost, to my perforated spirit, it's time to get them stow.
I'm driving in a new road now, blasting the volume of Un Monde Nouveau.
I was used to filling myself with mourning, now I just say sometimes people outgrow.
Maybe I'd have felt better if I had opened my wounds and bleed a a little, letting it outflow.
Forgiveness is the hardest truth, something that should be choosed..it, I promise I'll try to follow.
Such a weird feeling to choose yourself, to feel the underway warmness of golden yellow...