Quemas

With everything you were
With all your good little things
Why do you cause so much harm
And burn, burn, burn?

And your voice that was silence
The softest calm of the river
Why does it turn into a storm
And cold, cold, cold?

What are all those shadows
That have darkened the day?
That make your wound bleed today
And will make mine bleed

Your smile, the clearest
Light of all my brushes
Why does it turn into lament
And hurt, hurt, hurt?

And your voice that was silence
The softest calm of the river
Why does it turn into a storm
And cold, cold, cold?

What are all those shadows
That have darkened the day?
That make your wound bleed today
And will make mine bleed
They will make mine bleed!

With everything you were
And burn, burn, burn