Testo di I

Reading the same lines over and over. Repeating movements of the eyes. The same horizon endless as the sky. Repeating movements of the eyes. As I blow in my own sails. I know another attempt has failed to reach the solid shore and leave the sinking ship behind. Do I really hate the farewell. When it's me who has brought the petrol. Petrol for a burning ship. I've cut the wood to build the ship, and carved the match to light it