Написалась вот такая фигня, и я не могла понять, к чему она: то ли о психе, то ли о наркомане. А потом меня осенило. О том, что человека нельзя заставить что-либо делать, в частности, говорить, если он не хочет.

After seven days
You have gone away
Someone plays the drum
Someone catches the ray

Aften seven week
You will look like freak
Try to high away
When you are just sick

And you don't hear, you don't hear me

When you wind the clock
You should own off
You don't have time here
And all doors are locked

When you take a breath
You think that all trees,
Which you've seen before,
are going to the see

You don't believe, you don't believe me

I want you to wake up
I'm trying to speak up
But I still haven't got your letter

And if you have agreed
You'd have been so free
That you'd have made your life any better.

**
Чую, тут миллиард ошибок, хотя я старалась. Ну что поделаешь, буду еще исправлять, а пока листик не потеряла, запишу сюда.