| Don’t be sad and come, come to look out
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| Of the windows in a wasted morning
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| This lost and menacing sky is yours
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| It’s just my gift, my gift for you
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| Only my hate still remains
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| Only closed eyes and hazy shouting
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| Which are dying out so lazily while
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| Everything shatters my idiot plans
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| Let’s go for a walk to foggy streets
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| Foggy like the dreams we dreamt about and
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| Keep on staying alive in the frozen dreams
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| Which somebody sings the praises of
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| Here is just the hand of your cruel friend
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| In a silence «vie» with no return
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| Then you push me back, back to the tiredness
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| Where I come from… alone?
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| Maybe time ago I did give up
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| Losing something I was fond of
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| But there is no trick, no lack of awareness
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| If I look back
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| Some hours again, in the loss’s sun
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| And also your eyes will get a flower
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| Born among the new fear of the crowd
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| Born while waiting crimes to come
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| I have open eyes and I still breathe
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| And I breathe pure wrath in the cut air
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| And believe me scorn is not enough
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| For this heaven
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| And I breathe the streets of loneliness
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| Even though they told I was dead
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| And I can’t forget the boundless winter
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| And what it whispers
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| Only for your eyes I might cry
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| But I cannot look, cannot look t you
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| I have joy and death within myself
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| I have joy and death |