There I know someone is waiting for me in a rainy city.
On Moulins Road, a small room with turtles, bicycle, and a flat screen telly.
He taught me love, that is giving with no purpose.
Like a winter breeze stirring across a Christmas rose.
I fell asleep on his legs while he looked at my face speaking, "Baby, it's twelve-thirty."
In my slumberland I pray that distance will never lead us to a pity.
Red Art Cafe, Holborn station, Soho Square, everywhere our relationship grows.
Every place is worth writing a prose.
Hey my dear, people may say perhaps it is too early.
We should not be in a hurry.
But they also say we'd better live a life without remorse.
Dream a dream even if it's not so close.
Here you know I am waiting for you in a sunny city.
On Dungguang Road, a tiny room with novels, laptop, and your favorite Bulgarian melody.
You taught me love, sincerely in heart that doesn't need any performance.
Like a summer Milky Way star shining high above in silence.
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