Naked winter’s country
Gives deep and so far away eyes,
and any days so far in time,
passions days, revolution days.
With the time and his breath on the neck
I find my old fears,
my mind run away so fast
it is being chased by lights and by worry.
The truth is here; we are here!
We are this era’s sons, we sing: we don’t want it!
Our looks over there, over the bridge,
there are: false flags and old ways.
Seeking shelter, I go up the stairs
On the first floor, I find my friends.
There is a keyboard that play my notes,
I see a checkpoint between me and them.
The truth is here; we are here!
Of this era’s captive, of this era’s captive
I run in one direction, that bridge is behind me now
false flags eggs by new ways….
False flags
