I'm thirsty and the vanity of the stars quietly sleeping in the eyes, and the road is terribly short. I'm hungry, not for memories hiding dreams, but for love, which leads them beyond and beyond. I'm poor, like a dandelion dirt among the storms my soul is wandering. I'm honest, in the arrows of the clock, Infidelity expectations entwined. I am autumn, among raindrops, Morning through me I sigh.