It's in the ashes that I'll wait for you
Like a final offering

It's in the ashes that I'll wait for you
Like a final offering
Hope no longer knows how to defend itself
A few sweet words fly from my head
Bent in half, these are wishes that never stop

When the day damages me with its dark madness
I accumulate smiles without knowing that it poisons me
And in the race against the bell
Morpheus will only inherit the shape of my sheets

I hear the butterflies flying away from me
Fleeing the tip of my fingers
I find myself alone in the cold
I hear the butterflies flying in the dark
And when the lilacs will wilt
What will become of my story?

I see the world as a dystopia
Without preseptal inception
We love each other, we reject each other
And all without emotions

A man who doesn't dream, it's not so disturbing
Talking about nightmares, it brings down the good livers
A blow and sleep that gangrenes my heart
I'd like some advice to cheat my misfortune
And in the race against the bell
Morpheus will only inherit the shape of my sheets

I hear the butterflies flying away from me
Fleeing the tip of my fingers
I find myself alone in the cold
I hear the butterflies flying in the dark
And when the lilacs will wilt
What will become of my story?

Oh oh oh
Oh oh oh

Faith no longer holds me back
As much as before (as much as before)
When I still had the vision
Of a child (of a child)

I see butterflies
Flying at the mercy of the wind
I would follow them slowly
Even to the setting sun

I hear the butterflies
Flying away from me
Fleeing the tip of my fingers
I find myself alone in the cold

I hear the butterflies
Flying in the dark
And when the lilacs will wilt
What will become of my story?

Oh oh oh
Oh oh oh

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