Dobbs Dead “Back Home“

Back Home When our last summer passed and white clouds turned to grey. Hard rain fell on me, my white skin melt to dirt. I hear sparrows calling my name, they bring me back home, we have no more time to stay, when next spring is coming and the wild flowers blow. They bring me back home to you, they bring you back home to me. So lay down your head and cry for me wind will dry your tears my sweet love you give to me. I hear sparrows calling your name it´s time to go home we have no more time to stay when next spring is coming and the wild flowers blow. They bring me back home to you they bring you back home to me. by Volker Merschky and Simone Pfaff.