It´s a form of fleeing,
or an act of freedom,
it´s impossible to continue,
I grow old and I don´t know what to trust in.
In some turn of chance, lights fall on your shadow,
And it is a sad fact, my nature,
My destiny insists on having you close.
As the night carries off the sun,
And leaves us a few stars.
As all of my sadness
burns in your eyes.
And all of your beauty is unpardonable,
It saves from the evils of dead mornings,
As obscurity carries off all my promises,
As all of my sadness burns in your eyes.
As the night carries off the sun,
and leaves us a few stars.
As all of my sadness
burns in your eyes.
It´s a form of fleeing,
or an act of freedom.