| Today I found a flower
|
| She doesn't know where she's going, lost in the city
|
| Look for a ray of sunshine behind asphalt and glass
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| Look at her, going down the boulevard...
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| Today I found a flower that does not understand men
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| They never shake hands, they shoot with cannons
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| They are filled with reasons
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| Without taking care of their hearts
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| She says that in the city she always feels alone
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| no one smiles at anyone
|
| And no one gives him a ball
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| This is how he burns the hours...
|
| She says that between cement there is no poetry
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| no room for color
|
| And nobody trusts him anymore
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| joy on the street
|
| Today I found a flower at a zebra crossing
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| She wanted to cross on red, jump from the sidewalk...
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| send everything to hell
|
| Her root finds no land...
|
| She says that in the city she always feels alone
|
| no one smiles at anyone
|
| And no one gives him a ball
|
| This is how he burns the hours...
|
| She says that between cement there is no poetry
|
| no room for color
|
| And nobody trusts him anymore
|
| joy on the street
|
| And in the shop windows, behind the glass
|
| Artificial flowers make fun of her…
|
| They don't need air, they don't need spring either
|
| They don't need water, or anything that wants them
|
| Between humor and noise, the afternoon speeds up
|
| In this sea of people, anyone is unhappy
|
| Whistling melodies, even if nobody hears him
|
| Dreaming nonsense, the stars catch him...
|
| And in the shop windows, behind the glass
|
| Artificial flowers make fun of her…
|
| They don't need air, they don't need spring either
|
| They don't need water, or anything that wants them
|
| Between humor and noise, the afternoon speeds up
|
| In this sea of people, anyone is unhappy
|
| Whistling melodies, even if nobody hears him
|
| Dreaming nonsense, the stars catch him... |