Testo originale
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in our times truth is a mercenary
who dress according to / who has the throne
in our times reallity /is getting darker
by the shine of their pots of gold
masses are walking around
with a masked face / with an eternal headache
And our eyes reflects the lights
of your burning nights
so tired, so tired,
to resist the sea that comes over us
what can we do, before we drown?
can we stay and enjoy this bitterness
or maybe can we do something more?..
question everything
living everything
confront everything
maybe this night cant blind our eyes
maybe this way hope can survive
a simple question maybe the first step
to embrace the hope to our hearts
