That was the time when hands closed
And in the bright nights words flew
I saw that the sky was born from my fingers
And the Big Dipper they were lit irons
Sailors lost in distant ports
In hidden bars, in giant dreams
And the empty city, the color of asphalt
And someone asked me to sing higher
Who takes my ghosts from me
Who saves me from this sword
Who tells me where the road is?
That was the time
When the shadows opened
In which men denied
What others raised
And I drank life in small sips
I stumbled into laughter, I embraced poisons
With your back turned, you cannot see the future
Neither the direction of the bullet, nor the flaw in the wall
And someone was shouting at me
With voice of a prophet
That the path is made
Between the target and the arrow
Who takes my ghosts
Who saves me from this sword
Who tells me where it is Is it the road?
What's the point of having the map
If the end is marked
What's the point of having the land in sight
If the boat is stopped
What's the point of having the key
If the door is open
What's the use of words
If the house is deserted?
Who takes my ghosts from me
Who saves me from this sword
Who tells me where the road is?

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