A poet wanders alone in the blue of the sky
And the dry leaves
He fights against the sleep that makes him lose his dreams
And he refills the coffee pot again

And he goes alone
Searching for magic
But, everything
Fills him with nostalgia

A poet wanders alone in the blue of the sky
And the dry leaves
He fights against the sleep that makes him lose his dreams
And he refills the coffee pot again

And he goes alone
Searching for magic
But, everything
Fills him with nostalgia

He has a soul of fire and burnt lips
Intact hope, but tired spirit
His restless eyes get lost everywhere
He has strength and skill, but he was never a soldier

Every time he cries, loneliness caresses him
Although the moisture on his fingers drives him crazy
His eyes, opaque crystals of malice
He learned to lose everything, that's why he's not afraid

It's another verse, another verse
Another verse, he insists
It's another verse, another verse
Another sad verse

It's another verse, another verse
Another verse, he insists
And he writes another verse, another verse
Another sad verse

He's a hermit who is looked at strangely
A white sheep, but without a flock
That bites weak grass, tired of deceit
He invents a little bubble where no one can hurt him

His body is scrawny, heart pale
Warm breath, crying is not valid
For a poet who swims in nothingness
And wanders in his delusions with a stained conscience

And he's a skeleton with an organism
Although he knows he hasn't been well, he doesn't lose optimism
He doesn't start a relationship, he suffers from skepticism
He values himself, even though he feels disgust for himself

He's a sad wolf that doesn't betray the moon
He doesn't believe in forgiveness and, therefore, he doesn't forgive
An idea and a paper and he immediately becomes obsessed
This song is for me, spoken in the third person

A poet wanders alone in the blue of the sky
And the dry leaves
He fights against the sleep that makes him lose his dreams
And he refills the coffee pot again

And he goes alone
Searching for magic
But, everything
Fills him with nostalgia

A poet wanders alone in the blue of the sky
And the dry leaves
He fights against the sleep that makes him lose his dreams
And he refills the coffee pot again

And he goes alone
Searching for magic
But, everything
Fills him with nostalgia

Uh-uh-uh-uh
Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh

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