The man with the flute
is one of us,
with big black eyes
and a case in his hands
An enigmatic smile
on his face,
and a numerical ocean
in his brain

AND A SECRET IN HIS MIND,
SOMETHING THAT WE DON'T KNOW
AND MAYBE HIS LOVE WILL BE FOREVER

The woman with the harp
is one of us,
with big light eyes
and some tears in the hands
And days without hours and time,
words to realize
and words to live

AND A SECRET IN HER MIND,
SOMETHING THAT WE DONT'T KNOW
AND MAYBE HER LOVE WILL BE FOREVER
THE BLADE OF MY BRAIN
Old world, so shining,
your scent is like (a) rusty dream in my mind
All your sweet abundance
is now a repulsive lie to my life

I want to rest, to feel the taste of peace,
I want to see beyond appearances
The blade of my brain is ready to believe
there's the need of something else

I'LL TRY TO BREAK THE SILLY THINGS,
(THE) MORBID BRAIN OF A SAINT WITHOUT A SOUL TO KNOW,
I'LL TRY TO TASTE (THE) EARTHLY GOODS
AND THE PAIN OF A FRIEND, WITH MY ANIMAL SENSE

It's my new religion,
or if you want our new world, new time
So (the) revolution can start,
simply, in the respect of human things