Laying on the shore where the sun passed over
Detached from the betrayal of appearances
So many meanings for the same word, for the same incoherences
Waiting to be discovered
On the edge of the world a new feeling behold
Let’s take this chance before we grow old
Let me not awake
This dream is not for sadness to take
It’s a wish on a four leave clover.
Our hopes to be recover
By a storm of beauty and passion
Before we break the line of brutal attraction.