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Klimt 1918
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Dopoguerra
City walls are coming down,
It's a brand new world's deep sound,
Sleeping under these remains.
And I guess I could be wrong,
Time ago all hope was gone,
Moving lips to breathe that time.
No murder by the light of sun,
I've only come to see it shine.
Please let me take a bite of cloud,
Time for romantic view.
In the halflight were I stand,
Roma rises from the pink,
It's a slice of light that brings me hope.
Moving lips to breathe warm joy,
Silent wishful noise,
Though the dust red buildings kiss the sky.
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And I know it's time to run,
To forgive the burning rain,
'Twist your head in wind', yeah, someone says.
And I try to organize,
All the tears I cried,
I have lived and mourned for aftermath.
Aftercare day,
Aftergame time.
Afterward cry,
Grey hairs on my head.
See, the time of youth is gone,
See, the rage of past is vain.
Try to close your eyes and smile,
(Sleeping) under these remains.
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