I sing

The fog that rests of morning
The rocks of a way in the hill
The hawk that will arise itself
The first ray that will appear
The snow that will be disarranged, running for the sea
The mark of a head on the cushion
The slow and uncertain steps of a boy
The serenity look
The hand that will be extended
The joy of who will wait
For this and what it will come
I sing
The hands in the pocket, I sing
The voice in party, I sing
The band in the head, I sing
I run in the wind and I sing
The entire life I sing
The spring, I sing
My conjunct, I sing
For who to listen to me
I want to sing, always to sing
I smell it of the coffee in the kitchen
The morning house all full one
The elevator that does not walk
The love for my city
The people who to smile for the street
The branches that if interlace in the sky
An old one that it always walks only
The summer that later will pass
The grain that will ripen
The hand that will harvest it
For this and what it will come
I sing
The hands in the pocket, I sing
The voice in party, I sing
The band in the head, I sing
I run in the wind and I sing
The entire life, I sing
The spring, I sing
The last dusk, I sing
For who to listen to me
I want to sing, always to sing, to sing
I sing
The hands in the pocket, I sing
I sing
The voice in party, I sing
The entire life, I sing
I run in the wind and I sing
I sing
The entire life, I sing
I sing
For who to listen to me
For who to listen to me