A story that has a beginning but no end
Born in a corner of the world I was
I am the son of ephemeral places and days
Of faces and voices and the scents that the nights brought to me
Omnia fert aetas
Nomen est omen
On full or empty streets it's my show
I wander and I dwell everywhere and I'm with no one
Travel companions the dream they share
With a full glass I step another story of wanderers, artists I will tell
Omnia fert aetas
Nomen est omen
Apparent motion of useless things
Swirling states of life change soul
A relative fixed point I do not have
The hours always sing of seasons and questions without a reply
Omnia fert aetas
Nomen est omen
Forte entrusts me a fortuitous place
Without knowing when it will claim it
So I drink a sip of every brief moment
Without hesitating glances in my memories I imprint another story already awaits me
Omnia fert aetas
Nomen est omen
âTime is a straight path
That closes in a circle and goes
Towards the idea of u200bu200binfinity I slipped
Of course everything will go
Without meâ

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