I Don’t Love
Svoy
River spills over the banks
Washing the rocks, tearing roots out
Rushing in brooks, making curves
– Pity for hail begging drought
Don't you cry, don't you wait
Let that leave, let your tears dry
Won't sound right, but
I don't love you
Those who choose traveling alone
Especially during their spring time
Rarely, but make it back home
Sewing the wounds, hands with grime
Don't you cry, don't you wait
Let that leave, let your tears dry
Won't sound right, but
I don't love you