The time to let go

   Arrived in the summer hunting ground with their feet pads. 
   Also, you've arrived at capturing all the emotions. 
   I tour the perimeter around you, 
   and I get lost in the wild jungles of June. 
   I am writing a series of summer songs, tune in 
   pre languages ​​of the guitar, I need a melody. 

   The time to let go of to be, in the hands of the winds, 
   I will give my feelings without a raise, and calm, waiting. 
   It can be difficult because of flying butterflies 
   capturing my stomach. Also, ants tickling my feet dancing. 
   Butterflies polka dancing again, I dance with my words 
   until the ash will be wearing a veil incandescent. 
   I forget the time, depends on the summer lukin cobwebs above. 
   I have an old Sleeping Beauty slept for a hundred years, 
   what is needed is a prince that awakens with a kiss.