| You speak sincerely to me and you wait for me when the day begins.
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| My guide, my lighthouse of Alexandria, if you see me lost
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| I look at you and remove the sadness in a sigh.
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| You give meaning to my existence, you, disobedience,
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| Your presence alone deserves my reverence,
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| You, you gave me a gift, you were my sword,
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| Always locked in your prison if the inspiration was missing.
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| From out of nowhere you hug me, you do not prohibit or threaten
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| So romantic and authentic, you never dress up
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| Like a fairy and an executioner steadfast shield in battle,
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| You, who do I turn to if others fail.
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| You give me challenges, adventures and responsibility,
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| You give me success and money, you take away my intimacy,
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| You demand me to create, you make me tremble, dream, you heal me
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| You choose me to speak if the streets are silent.
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| You undress me tenderly and I feel your touch and your smell,
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| If I see you fly free between the voice of a singer-songwriter
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| You are Opera and Flamenco, you are all I have and I love you,
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| As you spring between the notes of a piano.
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| And you disintegrate me painting these black nights,
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| You make me happy, you invade me, you evade me, you drive away the darkness
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| And you always resurrect me, you never lie to me
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| You are the container where tears are poured.
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| You are Tango and you are rhythm you live in do, re, mi, fa Unpredictable beat when you dress up as Jazz,
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| You come and give me oxygen, my only sleeping pill
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| If the deadly stress tenses my muscles, disciple
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| Of your immense mastery when I did not know you,
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| How could I live without perceiving your melody
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| You were mine and only mine in my hours of misery,
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| You compose the soundtrack of this tragicomedy.
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| You reign among a thousand kings, summit of my valleys,
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| You levitate me and thus prevent so much hate from strafing me
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| You, if you are Hip Hop, show denunciation and charisma,
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| But you dress in classic and remain the same.
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| It's you, my luck, it's you, so strong, it's you, you, so different
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| You arise and suddenly life forgets death.
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| Impossible to have you if you are born from a pentagram,
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| If the drama lies in my bed you open huge windows for me
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| Your flame never goes out, light of eternal youth
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| When you cry plucking a blues guitar.
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| It's you, Kurt Cobain's ripped dirty rage
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| The sincere commitment of Marvin Gaye,
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| The greatness of John Coltrane improvising with the sax,
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| The girlish look in the eyes of Michael Jackson.
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| And it is that your son seduced me, your light perplexed me and I fell,
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| I revived like the sun in the form of Soul and R&B
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| I drank from you the elixir and resisted the blows,
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| If I was clumsy I finally found my north, my support.
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| Between chords of Mark Knopfler drum rolls of Hancock Herbie,
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| From Vivaldi to Elvis, from Verdi to Chuck Berry.
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| Immortal pieces of music make time stand still,
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| They explode like bombs causing lethal waves
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| Of hope, encouragement and life, my great friend
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| Only you make effective all the phrases I say,
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| My balance, my peace, my druid, in fatigue
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| Only you make the dreams that I pursue come true.
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| And it is that without you there is no destiny, only stone and a thousand paths,
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| Without you, I'm a mime trembling in the dressing room.
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| But you welcome my voices if you see me disoriented,
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| And you dance with me a waltz like two lovers.
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| You are the immortal key that opens this mental prison,
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| From "Tearz" Wu Tang Clan to Silvio's "I wish."
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| I envy the power you impose in songs
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| You awaken my emotions, with creations by Ennio Morricone.
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| Feelings without control when you're Rock n' Roll,
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| The eroticism of a flat in the voice of Diana Krall
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| The electric guitar solo that the silence breaks,
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| The harmonica hidden in the hands of Steve Wonder.
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| I saw you where everything ends and nothing will go with Black Sabbath
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| You breathe life with the calm that Bob Dylan inspires,
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| You swing and possess James Brown you move his body from him,
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| Along with Freddy Mercury, Ray Charles will never have died.
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| And it's true whether you dream of a harp or an Akai,
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| With the kind of Frank Sinatra or Barry White.
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| You are the enigmatic metric that surrounds my being and saves it,
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| The language with which the gods speak, you are music. |