When I'm overwhelmed by nostalgia,
I think about Christmas, full of Gloria.
Why is so strange in this area?
Why is it not surrounded with euphoria?
Every year, I try to understand the prisoner of the pulpit
The contrast between the worlds, he tries to split.
I thought his mission was impossible. I thought he would quit,
But the fact that he stayed makes me believe that it was a gift.
The approach direction didn't stand still,
Everything in this year makes me feel
Like this word is getting ill
And I'm naïve for thinking that I can make it heal.
Instead of letting go, I bottled up,
But I will never give up.
Especially with the coming of Christmas eve,
I'm standing by something that I believe.
I put all those thoughts on a mixtape
But with hindsight, I consider it as a mistake.
They say that I must be the person I needed when I was younger,
They say that with time I will understand... that I will be wiser.
But the whole picture doesn't seem to become wider.
Everything that I thought would stop became wilder.
Can't help to stay put and wonder
Am I a mistake or a wonder?
Szekér Imola XI.R
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