A voice, an image, a breath
something that a name doesn't have
that speaks to me in the strangest places
between love and advertising.
Inside the bottom of certain glasses
on the threshold of yesterday's dream
in the skirt that flies in the wind...
I am the guest inside your bed.
You are the cat who lives on the roof.
Everything shows me one aspect
of the millions of aspects it has.
Paradises dressed as hells.
Surfaces of modern worlds
and future omens ...
My nose cannot see colors.
My eyes cannot hear sounds.
My mouth cannot smell odors.
My hand cannot touch flavors .
But the voice that blows in the wind
I, I hear it.
The answer that blows in the wind
I, I hear it.
I hear it.
it's the rain falling
I can feel it.
the paths and roads
I can feel it.
it's someone laughing.
The door
is open.
A night that illuminates a day.
A journey that seems like a return.
There is a spot in the center of the sun.
The tremor of certain words.
My last time alone
I felt a push from behind
an invitation to drop my bags.
Like a man learning to fly.
A land emerging from the sea.
For the end of the world there is planned
a party that starts from now.
You can come dressed like this
oh my beautiful lady.
You can come dressed like this
Oh my beautiful lady.
My nose does not see colors.
My eyes do not hear sounds.
My hand does not feel flavors .
My mouth does not smell.
But the voice that blows in the wind
I, I hear it.
The answer that blows in the wind
I, the I feel it.
I feel it.
It's the rain falling.
I feel it.
The paths and the roads.
I feel it.
It's someone laughing.
The door
is open.
I studied the swallows in flight
to understand their alphabet.
Sawdust on the floor in bars
has formed my nose.
If you pass by my parents' house
tell them that everything is perfect
I have committed the usual sins
of lack or excess of affection.
Sadness is blackmail
it is the delictum perfecto
which claims more victims than the plague
and does not arouse suspicion.
The end of the world is foreseen
A party that starts from now
You can come dressed like this
Oh my beautiful lady
(It's the rain falling)
My nose can't see colors
(the paths and roads)
My eyes cannot hear sounds
(it is someone laughing)
My tongue cannot hear smells.
The my hand does not feel the flavors.
But the voice that blows in the wind
I hear it.
The answer that blows in the wind
I, I hear it.
it's the promised land.
I feel it.
it's the date that changes.
I feel it.
it's a meeting of glances.
I feel it.< br/>It's a hidden face.
I hear it.
It's a distant shot.
I hear it.
It's the rain falling.
I hear it .
It's someone laughing.
I hear it.
(Thanks to Cice83 for this text)

INVIA LE CORREZIONI