Everything Should Be In This Title

You'd go insane if the street was your music
The flying things throw themselves into the window
Let me hear the birds tweet with the I love you
The crashing waves of home
And the voice resembling
The past phases
All a line
Never gone
Taste of tequila
You remind me of blur
I'll make mistakes
You'll repeat
I'll listen to the dying carnival
I am going home
With you

Realism In Warsaw