Kids of the parks, kids of the beaches
The wind threatens the sandcastles shaped by my fingers
Time spares nobody, alas
The years go by, the echo slips off over the Dune of Pilat
At the whim of seasons, of photo booths
I surrender to those glimmers of yesterday
At the whim of seasons, of decisions
When memories get tangled, tears come to me
And the sirens' song throws me back into winter
Cruel melancholy, thin harmony, solitary euphoria
How many pranks, how many antics
How many traces, how many masks did we leave back there
Lay down arms, head out to sea
Find calm in this racket before I drown in it
At the whim of seasons, of photo booths
I surrender to those glimmers of yesterday
At the whim of seasons, of decisions
When memories get tangled, tears come to me
And the sirens' song throws me back into winter
Cruel melancholy, thin harmony, solitary euphoria
When memories get tangled, tears come to me
And the sirens' song throws me back into winter
Cruel melancholy, thin harmony, solitary euphoria
When memories get tangled, tears come to me
And the sirens' song throws me back into winter
Cruel melancholy, thin harmony, solitary euphoria