Half

"The past is burning,

they fly into oblivion.

They become incurable wounds at night and they hurt...

They take you to oblivion.

 

Wait a minute, don't talk,

let the heartbeat

to say what is meant to be said,

In the light to be born,

for nothing,

we have reached the unspeakable,

sweetie, don't get lost...

 

And the mornings seem to come

with a longing the anticipation.

It will be a strange joy,

there will be thirst and fire,

It will be a strange joy...

 

Wait a minute, don't talk,

let the heartbeat

to say what is meant to be said,

In the light to be born,

for nothing,

we have reached the unspeakable,

sweetie, don't get lost..."

 

Τ' ανείπωτα ♫

Done