White flags on the field

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA









It's everytime you fall and the day after
you try to rise again
It's on those times you show to yourself
that you can become a man

It's not a trodden path the one I walk
along but I can't bolt
While everything is new and also old
It is bitterly absurd

I see white flags on the field 
that once was our field 
and there is no other thing 
if not to believe 
that I can pass over the ravine 
if it is shallow 

Bitter and mellow both, is the life
with a weir on its course
I gently flee and then, I come back
as I open and fold

I see white flags on the field 
that once was our field 
and there is no other thing 
if not to believe 
that I can pass over the ravine 
if it is shallow