They hurt my poet's heart
with the arrow of the lie
wound that does not heal easily,
Even if people say they are nonsense,
ironies of a talker (Bis)
What guilt is there in this world
is born with such a special gift,
triumph is not so easy to say,
Of course, God puts his hand
if there is a brave heart
that bleeds, if necessary,
for defending what he feels (Bis)
They wanted to mess with the sublime,
with the intangible of my person,
I want that from now on
my opponents show the face
to know how they are. (Bis)
They follow me and applaud my performances,
plenty of reasons to sing
what can I do wrong with my songs
If there are a thousand reasons
of life and death,
of evil, of good, of the guilty
and also of the innocent. (Bis)
Only among all we can make this a better place :)