Holy saturday

 

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They call holy saturday today 

The wind from the east is blowing 

And I try to keep myself from thinking 

while the sun among the clouds is blinking 

 

It seems that the wind does know 

that the winter doesn’t want to go 

I cry when I see how much I’m flimsy 

I feel I’m only a metaphor so dim 

 

In the afternoon I feel in a pool 

I can hardly breath and it’s cold 

I really don’t know what I am looking for 

and I only know I’m alone 

 

I have stopped to write, and also to pray 

Inside I’ve put out, all the flames 

For Christianity, it’s the saddest day 

when the death is going to win 

 

I’m so insecure during these days 

as it was the end of every lane 

and I try not to go astray 

there is no indications on my way 

 

In the afternoon I feel in pool 

I can hardly breath and it’s cold 

I really don’t know what I am looking for 

and I only know I’m alone 

 

I have stopped to write, and also to pray 

Inside I’ve put out, all the flames 

For Christianity, it’s the saddest day 

when the death seems to going to win