returning at twilight
out of a suffering light
as for a naked fortune
i can color my mind one last time

colors sweet surrounding me
the power of the sun, believe me
has low importance the grey in the streets
i am searching for

this day wake up unreal
warning electro-voices
giving mankind the revelation:
you've got to give back all the choices
a liter of ink flows on the pages
from mouth to mouth, to the TVs
"eat good, drink wine, go for [bad word] "
keep brown: this is your last sun!"

i pull your colors to mine
the [bad word]  grass grows in this side

sitting on the wet grass
eyes to a sky without stars
as for naked fortune
it seems a whatever dawn
just more [bad word] 
i've seen a grey world dying out
in the fiction-like slience of my city
every person frightened by my smile
as in search of my colored world