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Where the clouds go as they form and fall
in ever-changing forms like dispersed thoughts
Around the edge of the wind with the passage of time
and behind the whistle of a train that runs and passes screeching
eh isn't it? it's difficult to look up
to detach yourself for a moment from everything and become someone else
and indulge in the arrival of the evening
where even the sky disappears
just to understand again what you're really looking for
Where do the clouds go, drawing scenarios
of high towers and lagoons of mushrooms and strange animals
eh, right? it's difficult to look up
to detach yourself for a moment from everything and become someone else
and indulge in the arrival of the evening
where even the sky disappears
just to understand again what you're really looking for
Just to understand again what you're really looking for