GINA ÉTÉ

Poetic Post Pop

Time Remaining

Time, it flies, time flies like the birds, but where does it land? Does it land somewhere?
Wind, it carries all of my words away, but where does it take them? Does it take them somewhere?

Chorus
You can‘t change that leaves are turning red
You can‘t change that one day you‘ll be
You can‘t stop the world from going ‘round
You will always have to yearn for
Something that remains...

Days go by, all of them go by, but where are they walking? Are they walking somewhere?
Winter comes every single year, but where does he come from? Doesn‘t he miss his hometown?

Chorus

Every single thing I take into my hands will break to tiny peaces, not leaving any trace but dust and sand, as every railway track will be covered in rust, as every silver knife will lose all of it‘s shine, as I will have to lose each person I trust
And even I will go in time 3x 

Time, it flies, time flies like the birds, but where does it land? Does it land somewhere?

graphic & illustration by Steffi Fink©
photography by Taya Chernyshova©, Benno Hunziker© &Edouard MK©