We are all born with armour
we are all born with closed eyes
Evenings, nights, seeking answers
conversations with meaning
Open mouth and intense gaze
A bitter and rejected aftertaste
Hey, you damn princess
you make the nights into a fight!
To see the other side of the moon, the rhythm of my heart
is impatient, until the morning, when the sun rises again
And from a new day, a new life is born inside of us
Thanks for your companionship, your sleep never dies.
Therefore, sometimes, I ask myself
the "why" of wickedness
the "why" of utopia
and the "why" of truth
If the truth was utopia
If the truth wasn't wicked
If the truth was made of gold or silver
If the truth was the truth
You who hide from us so many stories, naked on the horizon
you show us the shining face and behind, the darkness
you come to show us all of this new world in dreams and in art
A whisper in your ear says "Living doesn't have to be scary"
The struggle is alive, it's mine, I've won the fight!
The salt no longer covers wounds because they've scarred over.
It no longer covers wounds because they've scarred over.
The struggle is alive, it's ours, we've won the fight!