If it was a day of sun,
if it was a hopeful dream,
if there was something to hold,
if there was belief enough among us.
If I were brave and stiff,
if I were good enough to bring it on,
if nothing was scaring and cruel,
if there was something besides this world.
If the morning was not the first thing of the day,
if first things first meant no pragmatism and pain,
if the beauty of a word was not the plague of society,
if I were able to see...
The darkness overtook, and what if it wasn't so?
The fear and all those stuffs like failure and curse,
would they be condemned by mistakes of our ancient days?
The shared guilt will never be punished so far, no way.
If the ballerina weren't dancing alone,
if "come and gone" wasn't earthly hiting us,
if I were brave enough,
if the souls were not running thru this rain.
If things weren't changing in vain,
if it was worthy believing in anything,
if the faces weren't smiling behind
the Dorian Gray's portrait.
If there was a road to take,
if the way wasn't covered with stones of fake,
if sincerely I were in some sensitive eyes,
I'd rest my tired shoes and spoiled clothes,
and my tore soul,
if I had it yet,
if I knew it at last,
if there were no ifs, ands and buts,
if first things were really first things first.
