My heart hurts I try to hide
Then I go walking
Borders are the sublimation of thought
that man owns the earth
and can divide her into pieces
my vast like the ocean
my airy white like a cirrocumulus
my sweet like a memory
I haven't been here before,
nobody has seen me here before.
My sound has never touched this atmosphere,
my steps have never entered this virginal soil.
Colors get a warm tone,
the air starts to flow,
in the crossing zone
between to grab
They speak in a language not understood.
They talk about strictly bad or good,
No big deal.
Make room for the fresh and new.
All things must pass.
Sooner or late,
Higher than the clouds,
beyond the sun and the stars.
Between the end and where it all began.
The real core is difficult to untangle.
What are you doing right now?
How do you get through the day?