Candles are lit for me each evening; their light - your smoky ghost in it, and I donít want to know that time heals, and that all shall pass with it. I can no longer rid myself of calm and all thatís on my mind a year before; first to the seaport and than to the plane, unknowingly, she took it all away with her. Candles are lit for me each evening; their light - your smoky ghost in it, and I donít want to know that time heals, and that all shall pass with it. In my soul - the driest desert. Why do you stand over my empty soul and stare? Only broken songs and cob-webs there, the rest she took away with her. Candles are lit for me each evening; their light, your smoky ghost in it, and I donít want to know that time heals, and that all shall pass with it. In my soul - destinations only without routes, Dig around there and youíll only find two half-phrases, half-dialogues, and the rest - France, Paris. And let the evening light candles for me; their light, your smoky ghost in it, but I donít want to know that time heals, and that all shall pass with it.  
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