In the month of May my point of view suddenly changed. (This time)
This time I was more sure that I would be able to hold on, hold onto it
We repeatedly left the same places with more lung capacity,
And I stopped a number of times to keep the path in my mind. (The path)
It was necessary to remember the steps that brought me to those places,
Memorising every footprint in order to return there in darker times.
That day I was probably worrying too much and this understanding (That day)
Brought about my first step.
That day - yellow rain on the bay.
That day, the same rain through the veins.
The night of fires came earlier than usual
In the depth of winter.
Gathered in the house, the light dim
We talk in whispers, waiting for some good news,
Listening from here.
Midnight comes, the spirit pushes (Midnight comes)
And we push just as hard.
We run downhill - our shoulders covered by long shadows. (We run downhill)
But motorbikes are still bicycles - the headlights lanterns.
The mountain is turning upside down
That day - yellow rain on the slate.
Hot slate led the rain through the veins.
È visione insostenibile il proprio riflesso e comunque non si vede mai
Allora cechi ammirate la vostra proiezione artefatta
Da operatori imperiali e pessimi architetti
Come protesi di membra castrate
Noi dunque distrutti ci vedremo ancora per accendere un cero sotto il nuovo monumento
Trattino sepolcro e per oggi la propria ombra resta comunque la più fedele immagine di sé
And then we met impero.