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 SECR
ET IN HIS 
MIND, SOME
THING THAT 
WE DON'T K
NOW. AND M
AYBE HIS L
OVE WILL B
E 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 SECR
ET IN HER 
MIND, SOME
THING THAT 
WE DONT'T 
KNOW. AND 
MAYBE HER 
LOVE WILL 
BE FOREVER. 
THE BLADE 
OF MY BRAI
N 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 T
O BREAK TH
E SILLY TH
INGS, (THE) 
MORBID BRA
IN OF A SA
INT WITHOU
T A SOUL T
O KNOW, I'
LL TRY TO 
TASTE (THE) 
EARTHLY GO
ODS AND TH
E PAIN OF 
A FRIEND, 
WITH MY AN
IMAL 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.