You won't come back to me, I forebode it,
everything comes to an end as time goes by,
you may well be a torment to me
but you won't be happy even if you find another love.
I will continue fighting with my grief
until I pull off this chain from my soul,
the passion that drags and condemns me
to the dark prison of my sorrowful nights.
You can go everywhere without me,
aristocratic plumage dove,
I would be able to see in the blue distance
your already broken wings, over the sea.
I would be able to see in the blue distance
your already broken wings, over the sea.
You won't come back to me with the lie
for which I felt I was loosing my life,
there are black torments in the soul
where love dies when it's missing the truth.
You can go everywhere without me,
aristocratic plumage dove,
I would be able to see in the blue distance
your already broken wings, over the sea.
I would be able to see in the blue distance
your already broken wings, over the sea.