Sometimes i think about the unknown people there
Spending their life as if they were walking on air
Their bleeding hands are begging for a memory
Spending their life as if they were walking on air
Their bleeding hands are begging for a memory
Nobody sees them
Nobody ears them
Nobody remembers them
I sometimes dream about so many faceless dead
The step of memory didn't leave any trace in life
Do you want to give them a glance
Do you want to give them a glance ?
Do you want to give them a face ?
My nights have sometimes the same colours as my days
Trying to imagine my memory after me
Caus' i wanna know who's above and who's around
Who' in a box
Who's in the sand
Do i fall ?
Or do i climb ?
And when my lips say i just need myself sometimes
I hope in fact there'll be someone hanging around my grave
Hanging around my name.
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