17 Hippies - Son Mystere. | Текст песни

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• 17 Hippies
• Son Mystere.

Lyrics to Its Mystery
His eyes downcast, hands trembling,
it is breathtaking.
Never known for his smile,
it is true or invisible.

A troubled life, the Holy Wall.
He sees the snow melts.
His hands, As,
chase the snowflakes falling.

The sea is ravaged, a nomad, he closes his door.
He looks over his voice
are signs that the whales
and when he talks to his sirens.

He loves these savage times.
It's a mystery to him:
Be the hero of his story.

His eyes downcast, hands trembling,
it is breathtaking.
Never known for his smile,
it is true or invisible.

I'm inside of you,
I float your veins,
I run the streets illuminated sound memories ...
- Leads me to your city's top secret shores ...
And I like his savage times.
It's a mystery to him:
Be the hero of his story.

This mystery ...

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