When the winter howls to shoo the autumn

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA














In these late evenings
when the sky is grey but it's not so cold
After some praying
I push my thoughts away, put them on a boat

When it's evening and it's raining on the roof and my soul 
in these moments I remember all: the lovers, the friends and my hopes 
and there's a big graveyard for them all, and everyday someone else in the tombs 

Growing means also to stop to mull, to grizzle, to mutter and to frown 
I've to learn first of all to shrug, to heal the bruise on my heart 
Future shan't clad in, fear or love, it will hunch itself to take new forms 

In these late evenings
when the winter howls to shoo the autumn
I become a poacher
to kill the spiders on the spiderweb

When it's evening and it's raining on the roof and my soul 
in these moments I remember all: the lovers, the friends and my hopes 
and there is a big graveyard for them all, and everyday someone else in the tombs 

Growing means also to stop to mull, to grizzle, to mutter and to frown 
I've to learn first of all to shrug, to heal the bruise on my heart 
Future shan't clad in, fear or love, it will hunch itself to take new forms