Passerà

Songs aren't written
but they come by themselves
they are things that happen
every day around us
just catch the songs
there's one for you too
who struggles more to live
and never smiles
songs are gypsies
stealing poems
they are deceptions like happiness pills
songs don't heal
loves and illnesses
but that little pain
that existence gives us
it will pass, it will pass
if a boy and a guitar are there
like you, in the city
to watch this life that doesn't go
that kills us with illusions
and with the age of songs
it will pass over us
we will all end up in the bank sooner or later
with the whys, the who knows
and the anxieties of a rich poverty
to talk about the loves you don't have
to sing a song you don't know how to
because you lost it inside
and you only remember
it will pass
in a world of cars
and high speed
for those who always come last
for those who say goodbye
to those who crash into the obstacles
of diversity
songs are fireflies
singing in the dark
it will pass sooner or later
this little pain that's in you
that's in me, that's in us
and makes us feel like sailors
at the mercy of the wind and nostalgia
to sing a song you don't know how to
but that little pain whether it's hate or love
it will pass
it will pass, it will pass
even if you only do la la la
it will pass, it will pass
and a song will serve a purpose for something
if your little pain
whether it's hate or love will pass.