From the second plane

I can’t moor my sailing ship în shores;
Are breaking up the ropes sent like the cob-web,
Clarity of moment with out point of support,
Mirror only me upon the waves.

How I want we be filled with joie de vivre,
Keeping our hearts framed,
And I want take out my ego what I find
Being entrapped with, catched under a sky.

The ropes sent are still breaking up,
I can’t moor my sailing ship în shores,
And the music from the noise of waves,
Is rockin’me is rockin’me how is in dreams.