The songs are not written
but they are born of themselves
it's the things that happen
every day around us
the songs are enough to catch them
There's one for you too
that you have more trouble living
and never smile.
the songs are gypsy
and they steal poems
they are deceptions like pills
of happiness
the songs do not heal
loves and diseases
but that little pain
that exists gives us
it will pass, it will pass
if a boy and a guitar are there
like you, in the city
to look at this bad life
that kills us with illusions
and with the age of the songs
it will pass on us
we'll all end up in the bank sooner or later
with why, who knows
and the anguishes of a rich poverty
to talk about the loves you do not have
to sing a song that you do not know how it does
because you lost it inside
and you only remember
it will pass ....
in a world of cars
and of great speed
for those who always arrive last
for those who say goodbye
for those who hit the obstacles
of diversity
the songs are fireflies
who sing in the dark
it will pass sooner or later
this little pain in you
what's in me, what's in us
and makes us feel like sailors
at the mercy of the wind and nostalgia
to sing a song you do not know
how does
but that little pain that is hate, or that is love
it will pass
it will pass, it will pass
even if you only do the la la
it will pass, it will pass
and at something a song will serve
if your little pain
whether it's hate or love
it will pass.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)