| This endless din won't let you sleep
|
| That tries to fill the days with darkness and enemies
|
| A thunderous pack insists on silencing
|
| The questions, the nuances, the murmur of hopefully
|
| Noise of patriots wrapping themselves in flags
|
| They confuse the homeland with the sordidness of its caves
|
| Noise of converts who, fallen from the horse
|
| They sow their rancor persecuted for their sins
|
| If the noise would be silenced
|
| Would you hear the rain fall
|
| Cleaning the city of ghosts
|
| I'd hear you talk in your sleep
|
| And I would open the windows
|
| If the noise would be silenced
|
| maybe we could talk
|
| And blow on the wounds
|
| maybe you would understand
|
| that we have hope
|
| Noise of enlightened, they shout from their bonfires
|
| That brings the end of the world the light of difference
|
| Noise of inquisitors, they speak to us of freedoms
|
| Cracking with their screams their varnish of tolerant
|
| Never treads the battle so much noise of warriors
|
| They bring from their battlements the peace of cemeteries
|
| Tell me about your hugs, about our imperfect love
|
| From the light of your utopia, may your voice cover this noise
|
| If the noise would be silenced
|
| Would you hear the rain fall
|
| Cleaning the city of ghosts
|
| I'd hear you talk in your sleep
|
| And I would open the windows
|
| If the noise would be silenced
|
| maybe we could talk
|
| And blow on the wounds
|
| maybe you would understand
|
| that we have hope |