Nineteenth of August

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA 









Nineteenth of August
the wood is burning
some smell of autumn
it is my birthday

Mountains are dried
under the sun
owl is in silence
my time is running

And when the sunset starts to cry 
behind the holy west 
I prepare myself to die 
inside my native nest 

This is the most sacred time for me 
and I have to stay here 
I was here this day for twenty years 
and I know I will be 

August nineteenth
my birthday candles
were blown out by wind
my life I can't handle

And when the sunset starts to cry 
behind the holy west 
I prepare myself to die 
inside my native nest 

This is the most sacred time for me 
and I have to stay here 
I was here this day for twenty years 
and I know I will be