You take off your evening dress,
facing not me but the wall,
and I can see fresh scars
on your back that was smooth as velvet before.
I want either cry in pain
or forget myself in a dream.
Where are your wings
that I used to love so much?
Where are your wings
that I used to love so much?
Where are your wings
that I used to love so much?
In our past we owned the time,
now we own only things business to deal with.
We should prove that the strong ones devour the weak,
we should prove that the soot is white.
We all have lost something
during this insane war.
By the way, where are your wings
that I used to love so much?
Where are your wings
that I used to love so much?
Where are your wings
that I used to love so much?
I don’t ask how much money you have
and how many husbands you had
but I see your fear of opened windows
and floors that seem too high.
And if tomorrow the fire breaks out
and the whole building’ll be burning buried beneath falmes
We will die without the wings
that I used to love so much.