The wind lifts and scatters fragments of dreams throughout the city. They end up trembling from the cold in the corner of a road, crushed.
We feel so small among rows and rows of buildings. Caught in oppressive, false images our hearts get stolen.
Each day has no end, we’re like stray dogs. Starved for love, our hearts dry up and wander aimlessly.
I have written about these feelings and thrown them over a gray wall, shaken by the emptiness of this way of life.
In this hostile city I put my ear to the asphalt. I want to find the songs that are buried under the traffic. I will throw them across the empty tomorrow.
Everyone (feels a bit like this), before getting asleep. Let’s play the harmonies of our soul. Let’s play songs that are made of glass. A suburban scenery inlaid with the color of infinity.
[*LYRICS USED ONLY DURING THE LIVE VERSION The human condition is quite like a play But no one understands what makes us act this way. It’s a vortex of love and hatred that we try to restrain. But who could ever stop it? We’re creatures who can only resort to prayer.*] Please, shut up. There’s nothing I need to understand. Because I understand well, even if you laugh and say these are just idle fancies of mine.
All these lives without meaning… It shouldn’t be about money. For dreams, for love: for these things I’ll try my best.
In a hostile city, through the dazzle of days I will describe my feelings, I’ll keep singing, I’ll keep performing.
Life is a canvas. Life is a music score. Life is a stage on which time is the subject of our performance.
Let’s play the harmonies of our soul. Let’s play songs that are made of glass.