klockan har stannat under dina ögonlock
It is in the little moments,
In the spaces between, that it's difficult to breathe.
When everything means something else, when nothing means something.
When i wake up from a dream, so sure you were right here just a moment ago
but you were never here, not even once.
Going from everything to anything is hard.
Harder than from all to nothing.
Nothing is easy. Sharp, blank, white light.
This is different.
Unchartered territory. Who are we in this place? To whom does it belong?
We cling to it as though it were some sort of salvation,
I think it might be.
What happens now?- another suitcase in another hall.
In the spaces between, that it's difficult to breathe.
When everything means something else, when nothing means something.
When i wake up from a dream, so sure you were right here just a moment ago
but you were never here, not even once.
Going from everything to anything is hard.
Harder than from all to nothing.
Nothing is easy. Sharp, blank, white light.
This is different.
Unchartered territory. Who are we in this place? To whom does it belong?
We cling to it as though it were some sort of salvation,
I think it might be.
What happens now?- another suitcase in another hall.
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