Fantômes Des Mensonges

Sharp as a blade
an inherit sake rotten in mud
you can’t think about
a human behavior
a cold blood that can kill inside
without saints or saviors
without faith and hope

and i trust your words
and hear your call
to abuse me again,
abuse of my memories
in this drawing painted by our past days

we can disappear
our smiles never existed
in this black winter

when cities crumble
i hope
to forget your sweaty face
and remember this sharp blade
my fate is written on this gloomy lake
a recall from the deepest silence
of a memory that is lost for you and me

Si creano nuove idee di sale
che fluttuano riverse su di noi
Mentre lo sguardo
si perde nel ritmo
placido dell’acqua spersa
E tu che non ballavi più
fra giorni uggiosi e grigi sospirando
non ti riconosco più
non mi riconosco più