La calma del alma

The world’s a den, an old criminal
where you gotta learn to walk
and man’s a mastiff pulling on a chain
barking at the gods that are leaving.

Freedom’s the dirty price
of everyone else’s fragility
and happiness is a dream to lose
walking far away from yesterday.

And the storm is the blood of heroes
and the angels cry the bells
and in solitude my deep tears
come out to seek...the calm of the soul.

Just a candle, the light of truth
shines at best halfway
and the speed of time is a rifle
in the hands of a child’s army.

Doom with luck
conspires against resignation
and at that intersection sometimes love
opens the windows of the balcony.

And the storm shelters lovers
in the briefness of a long night
and in solitude protects the sparks
that passed by...the calm of the soul.

Fury and fatigue have a respite
and at the edge of the path reason falls asleep
my dream wakes up every time I reach it
but a dream reaches my stubborn heart.

And the storm is the blood of heroes
and the angels cry the bells
and in solitude my deep tears
come out to seek...the calm of the soul.

The calm of the soul, the calm of the soul....