Гарри Аракелян - We Had The Wings

Late
September, autumn in the air
Cold on the windows, silence everywhere
Thoughts keep circling, restless in my head
Bringing back the words we should have never said
Hard to admit, we already know
Some things don't break, they quietly go
The game is done, the fire is low
No final move, no place to go
We had the wings, but never flew