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Come Back to Me!

Sometimes you have to call back your soul. My words on music ‪@suno‬ One leg rooted in her homeland— fir trees and wild flowers included. The other extended, stepping into the world of cities, running buses and billboards yelling in the rainy night. For a brief moment she pauses and whispers to her soul: Come back to me. Come back to me— between the fir trees and the neon light. Come back to me— through the rain, through the night. I saw her in the glimpse of a huge street billboard, lightning powerfully colored images into the grey dusk, through the rain. She was floating in her black large linen trousers, a transparent mushroom-like umbrella covering her head. Crossing the street, she left behind a gust of perfume. Come back to me— between the storm and the city glow. Come back to me— to the place you already know. The perfume swirled upward into the clouds, prompting me to look up and smile at the storm. Come back to me— fir trees, rain, and neon light. Come back to me— between the worlds tonight. She pauses. She whispers: Come back to me.