Testo di Ithaca

Dark clouds At the end of the world A gathering of shadows Lost between sky and sea A life without course Pushed somewhere By the wind The body turns, Turns to bronze The heart turns to stone And the journey seems Without end You know There's a vindictive And cruel god Envious father of Cyclops Along your way, Your way home Only a gust of his anger To shake the seas To crush the wretched, Wretched life Of a little mortal man So the journey seems Without end Sometimes the fear Slowly slides in your veins Don't rush The journey at all You have to listen To the sirens song Before The last landing place Lost in the immensity Of universe Underneath stranger stars Maybe flat silence Maybe roar of thunder But hold firmly the helm And dream of home Beware the gods Astonished by Your mortal life It's challenge to them Never be afraid May be flat silence May be roar of thunder But the course is written In the net of fate