| Waiting for the silent men
|
| Watching the solar nights
|
| While in these mornings
|
| Sparkling drops of young spears
|
| Are falling from the trees…
|
| In the boulevard of light
|
| In the boulevard of light
|
| Fresh waters and fountains
|
| Reappearing in the quiet zones
|
| Where is possible to rest
|
| Laying on the blue bed
|
| At the edge of heaven
|
| And if in the night
|
| I cannot see anymore flights
|
| I can hear some distant screams
|
| Lost in the great obscurity;
|
| When fog is turning back
|
| From the front of a black war
|
| I am walkig near that river
|
| That leads me through the rain
|
| As the gates of the wasted bridge…
|
| As the gates of the wasted bridge…
|
| Night of echoes, missing faces
|
| Missing steps of missing men
|
| In a dream of grey old shadows
|
| Smoking cigarettes at last
|
| On the bridge of broken leaves
|
| Smoking cigarettes with ghosts
|
| On the bridge of broken leaves |