Your soul is a landscape, your mood is like the weather
It changes with seasons, with the wind that blows to your heart
And as clever as I’ll get, I will never know what to expect
A fire or the rain in your eyes that look as quiet as a desert

And it doesn’t matter if it hurts
It doesn’t matter if it hurts me now

And all the wide landscapes that you ride after the conquest
That you started to collect, like pictures of yourself,
Oh I’ve tried to figure them out and I feared for my life there
Because you’re like the devil always riding on my mind
And it doesn’t matter if it hurts
It doesn’t matter if it hurts me now