You are telling me your eyes

Your eyes are an old corridor
The walls are peeling by the drown tears
Where a mute and hidden tenant
Draw some lyrics instead of slogans

And there are stairs in there that lead
To a basement full of broken toys
That people are bored of and they forget them
And after using them they give them to you

You are telling me not to love your eyes
And not to stop believing in mine
But these eyes are everywhere
Wherever i go

There is a fire in the iris
That warms every homeless and jobless person
Whose kinness is spread like a oil spot
In order to make softer a petrified need

But there is no logic onto these eyes
They still love me no matter how deep I look
The set on fire the jail of history
Trying to find me in fairytales and stars

You are telling me not to love your eyes
And not to stop believing in mine
But these eyes are everywhere
Wherever i go
 [bad word]  [bad word]