| Only the plants without eyes survived
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| I lost you among them
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| Alone I am stepping through a path full of missed thorns
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| Only I can carry the flag of people’s sorrows
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| If only nobody crosses the border of madness and life
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| Since not only I am the life
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| For beyond there are also pain and faith
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| No one can think for us
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| We were in the garden full of figures
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| Made of glass, they were melting our hands in springs
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| I wanted to be among the men
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| But I saw them rotten plants without eyes
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| Figures seemed to be officious in despair
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| I wanted to be among the mes
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| But I saw them rotten plants without eyes
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| My fear was full of passion
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| I stopped my tears
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| For there was too much rain
|
| And the figures seemed to be officious in despair
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| We are only pale shadow
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| On the coloured surface of the starry sky
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| And no one but us clean up memories
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| In dreams they seem black
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| All of us want to forget about what makes us evil
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| Rains of life were falling from the fountains
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| Taste of blissful grapes spoiled by dogs
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| Lying at crossroads
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| I stoped my tears for there was too much rain
|
| And the figures seemed to be officious in despair
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| Glass rains fountains springs life evil
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| Shadow dark light sorrow cry glass death |