Well, it’s not like it was in the books,
Well, it’s not like at the forest glade,
Flowers in a green china,
In the hair a proudly tied ribbon.
Like a dragonfly when above the ocean
Of our young years did raise,
Well, it’s not like it was in the books,
Well, it’s not like at the forest glade.
The one who invented the faith and the dynamite,
Does he see what are they used for today?
The one who hanged the clouds above us,
What kind of storm is he counting on today?
The one who runs away to the farthest silence,
To hear the heartbeat,
Does he hear the shout’s abandoned words?
Or does he rock to sleep his own dreams?
Well, it’s not like it was in the books...
Like a dragonfly when above the ocean...
Na na na na na na na..