Qu Ser, Qu Ser?

I believe in many things I haven't seen, and you all do too, I know.
You can't deny the existence of something more real than
anything else. There's no need to show proof of decency for what is
so true. The only gesture is to believe or not. Sometimes even believing
brings tears. It's an incomplete topic because it lacks an answer;
an answer that maybe one of you can provide.

It's a technicolor theme to make something useful out of love. For all
of us, my friend.

Oh, what will be, will be
that’s sighing in the bedrooms,
that whispers in verses of folk songs,
that’s mixing up crazy questions,
that’s in our heads, that’s on our lips,
that’s rising through so many holes,
that are shouting loud in the cellar,
and screams in the market, what the hell is that?
It’s nature, what will be, will be,
that has no certainty and never gives you,
that has no concept, and never will,
that has no size.

Oh, what will be, will be
that lives in the minds of those lovers,
that sings from the most delirious poets,
that swears from the drunken prophets,
it’s in the ramblings of the mutilated,
it’s in the fantasies of the unhappy,
it’s in the day-to-day of the prostitutes,
in all the bandits and the downtrodden,
in all its senses, what will be, will be,
that has no decency and never will,
that has no censorship and never will,
and lacks meaning.

Oh, what will be, will be
that no warning can prevent,
that even prisoners can’t defy,
that all paths will have to cross,
where all signs will be consecrated,
and all the kids will investigate,
and all destinies will be found,
and the same Eternal Father who was never there,
will bless man once again
putting out hell's final flame,
because...