In our times truth is a mercenary.
Who dress according to / who has the throne.
In our times reallity /is getting darker
by the shine of their pots of gold.
Masses are walking around
with a masked face / with an eternal headache.
And our eyes reflects the lights,
of your burning nights.
So tired, so tired,
to resist the sea that comes over us.
What can we do, before we drown?
Can we stay and enjoy this bitterness
or maybe can we do something more?..
Question everything,
Living everything,
Confront everything
Maybe this night cant blind our eyes.
Maybe this way hope can survive.
A simple question maybe the first step,
to embrace the hope to our hearts
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