| the nights have blown to me
|
| endless speeches
|
| after the war.
|
| I have something in my voice, sometimes,
|
| something that screams,
|
| mixing a song of joy
|
| and a burning sky.
|
| I have deep in my memory
|
| the dancing blue lights,
|
| this sort of cage
|
| blocking my chest.
|
| it almost keeps me breathing
|
| in this train that departs
|
| especially not turning
|
| in this train that departs
|
| especially not turning
|
| all my requirements
|
| my struggles, my suspicions
|
| in this endless night.
|
| there is still a spark
|
| my pain, my emergency
|
| all my habits have changed
|
| all my doubts
|
| my struggles, my suspicions are dead
|
| in this endless night.
|
| there is still a spark
|
| my pain, my emergency
|
| all my habits have changed
|
| all my doubts
|
| my struggles, my suspicions are dead
|
| do you understand? |
| I fly
|
| I am nothing a simple dust.
|
| I would only sleep to stay here with you.
|
| I do not think it was too late for me.
|
| I thought it was my last opportunity.
|
| a last chance
|
| that’s why I feel so light?
|
| I feel myself go away from you.
|
| in a better place?
|
| this is where I go. |
| this is where I will live.
|
| so that’s why I flew?
|
| I think I’m finally happy.
|
| this is the end of all I need
|
| this is the end of all I know
|
| the nights have blown to me
|
| endless speeches
|
| after the war.
|
| I have something in my voice, sometimes,
|
| something that screams,
|
| mixing a song of joy
|
| and a burning sky.
|
| I have deep in my memory
|
| the dancing blue lights,
|
| this sort of cage
|
| blocking my chest.
|
| it almost keeps me breathing
|
| in this train that departs
|
| especially not turning
|
| in this train that departs
|
| especially not turning
|
| all my requirements
|
| my struggles, my suspicions
|
| in this endless night
|
| the grey colour of the tunnel
|
| there is still a spark
|
| getting out in an huge sunbeam
|
| in this endless night
|
| and the bright clang of the trains railroads
|
| there is still a spark
|
| spinning seawards
|
| the recovered love of my family
|
| and our bright future awaiting us in an idyllic spot
|
| their indestructible love and confidence
|
| recovered as a present of life
|
| this «rinacimento» founded suddenly
|
| in the bottom of my heart
|
| sign of my revival |