Because the wind
no longer tousles your hair
for your beautiful eyes
for you, Friend, I will sing.
For your days extinguished
right in the midst of life
for your unborn children
for you, Friend, I will sing
I will sing...I will sing…I will sing
although my throat
is raw with pain I will sing
because singing is a caress
and with my voice… I’ll caress you.
For your happy banter
for your pale complexion
with my sincere voice
for you, Friend, I will sing.
For the sun which has approached
and which was once my sun
but the Phantom of the Opera
was an assassin.
I will sing...I will sing…I will sing
although my throat
is raw with pain I will sing
because singing is a caress
And with my voice… I'll caress you.
Against those raging hands
against that black bomb
which has stripped the heavy vine
of the hope of spring
I will sing... I will sing… I will sing
although my throat
is raw with pain I will sing
because singing is a caress
And with my voice… I'll caress you.