Pieces of paper, are lost in the sea,
wind that takes you, course at random ...
How white is yesterday, how sad is the future,
full of questions, that do not come to an end.
Who directs the air, who breaks the leaves
Of those palm trees that cry ...
Who manages the time, who lose alone ...
Who weaves the networks that drown them?
Sail in pain, a ship without a rudder
Carrying the memories of the life he left behind.
The green and gray sky, the ivory snow,
falls on the dream, that once could live.
But who directs the air, who breaks the leaves
Of those palm trees that cry ...
Who manages the time, who lose alone ...
Who weaves the networks that drown them?
Only among all we can make this a better place :)