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Joy goes dancing over an indifferent heart until melancholy gives in and my hand slowly confuses you. He who doesn't know in what way goes dancing. bed will go to sleep
who will make him die tonight
until your eyes that make me move.
Who knows what will be born from that flower
which cannot yet be called love but for us
who have lived a while
the risk is normal, something that is worth
you have to look for it at least for a while.
Battling with life by mending a wound
I have never betrayed hope
and in your eyes (and near you)
I know that the air is cleaner.
Who knows what will be born
from that flower that cannot yet be called love
but for us who have lived a while
the risk is normal, something that is worth
you have to look for it at least for a while.
Bailando with life mending a wound
I have never betrayed hope
and in your eyes (and close to you) I know that the air is cleaner.