Безумные сны

In the warm valley of crazy dreams, we hide from ourselves, and the thorns of fear, as if chiseled peaks cut through the veins, leading an orchestra pretending to be dust...
Our desires float above the clouds, and we are knocking out underground, forgetting that when we rise to the top, we will fall like birds that have broken their wings, spreading out we will forge chains again that will bind our hearts and closing our eyes, we will dream of the sky where the earth flies...
In the warm valley of crazy dreams we hide from ourselves, and the thorns of fear, as if chiseled peaks cut through our veins, leading an orchestra pretending to be dust...
And only the one who rises to the top, sees all this sin in which we are drowning - will set a fire, and in an ashen dance melt the chains that bound our hearts and opening our eyes will dissolve into the darkness under the sound of the orchestra...
In the warm valley of crazy dreams we hide from ourselves, and the thorns of fear, like chiseled peaks they cut through the veins leading an orchestra pretending to be dust...