If they told me to make a wish,
I would prefer a tail of a cloud,
a whirlwind on the ground
and a great anger that rises.
A sweeper of sadness,
a downpour in revenge
that when it clears it seems
our hope.
If they told me to make a wish,
I would prefer a cloud tail,
to take away the ugly
br/>and the cherub will leave us.
A sweeper of sadness,
a downpour in revenge
that when it clears it will seem
our hope.

INVIA LE CORREZIONI