| I will go quietly as I arrived one day
|
| I'll take with me a guitar body
|
| And some applause imprisoned between my fists
|
| And some other wound in the soul
|
| I'll go quietly, without tears or doubts
|
| No words, just my luggage
|
| And the dust on the road to my house
|
| Tomorrow I'll look for that paper kite in the attic
|
| And I'll fix the old bike I played with yesterday
|
| I'll pull the grass from the garden
|
| And I will plant a cherry tree and a rosebush
|
| Tomorrow when I come back, yes I come back
|
| Tomorrow I will erase every minute from the clock face
|
| Tomorrow I will hang on some hanger what was a costume
|
| Tomorrow will gladden my heart
|
| The laughter of some children when playing
|
| Tomorrow when I come back, yes I come back
|
| I will leave slowly as I arrived, without haste
|
| I will take the memory of what my life was
|
| And some other letter in the pockets
|
| Maybe some forbidden poem
|
| I'll go quietly, without tears or doubts
|
| No words, just my luggage
|
| And the dust on the road to my house
|
| Tomorrow I'll look for that paper kite in the attic
|
| And I'll fix the old bike I played with yesterday
|
| I'll pull the grass from the garden
|
| And I will plant a cherry tree and a rosebush
|
| Tomorrow when I come back, yes I come back
|
| Tomorrow I will erase every minute from the clock face
|
| Tomorrow I will hang on some hanger what was a costume
|
| Tomorrow will gladden my heart
|
| The laughter of some children when playing
|
| Tomorrow when I come back, yes I come back |