That liquid sunset,
who faces the window,
sliding between the roofs and antennas
in which the swallows swim
and they blush the clouds,
knows of an old and new solitude,
That I love you
to let us touch the silence of silk.
That liquid sunset,
who faces the window,
sliding between the roofs and antennas
in which the swallows swim
and they blush the clouds,
knows of an old and new solitude,
That I love you
to let us touch the silence of silk.