There are days when we feel
A little, maybe, less people
One of those boring days
Rain falling on the pane
One day without thinking
Feeling the future in the air
The air, charged, subtle
One day in May or April
Without any friend on the side
Alone, in silence, silent
With a question in the soul
Why on such a calm afternoon
Does time seem to stand still?
It is in any prophecy
Of the wise men who saw the future
Of the madmen who write on the wall
From the webs of remote dream
Burst, explosion, tidal wave
The flame of war burning
Hunger sitting at the table
The glass with alcohol at the bar
The angel appearing in the sea
The seals of fire, the eclipse
The symbols of the apocalypse
The centuries of Nostradamus
The general flight of gypsies
It is in any prophecy
That the world ends one day
A sour taste in your mouth
The girl who dreams, the madwoman
The man who wants but forgets
The world of giving or going
It is in any prophecy
That the world ends one day
No fire, no blood, no ace
The world of our ancestors
No more deadly war
No glories from wounded martyr
Without a bang, but with a groan
The seals of fire, the eclipse
The symbol of the apocalypse
The general escape of the gypsies
The centuries of Nostradamus
It is in any prophecy
That the world ends one day š¤
Stay Safe š ā¤ļø
