Abysmo

Men with both roots and wings

They tie us down and ask us to leave

They are teachings unheard

They are bodies on smoke

Men with both roots and wings

At a singular voice we moan

Our teachings mislead

Our teachings like smoke

We sleep between the storm that was

And the storm which has to come

And the storm which has to come

We sleep between the storm that was

And the storm which has to come

And the storm which has to come

We've learnt to learn everywhere

And the very own nature has taught us to wait

Difference does sound like sin, equality reliefs

And that fame rhymes with hate yet everything is fair

On the interval of your death

On the interval of your death

Misguided demons or forthcoming heroes

Each one with an important name

Nothing else than an important name

Men with both roots and wings

At a certain time we are one

Our little tricks and sin

Our innocence stubborn

Men with just little wings

Men with just little minds

Men with just little lives

Men with just little deeds

Sleeping between the storm that was

And the wind which fails to come

And the wind which fails to come

Sleeping between the storm that was

And the wind which fails to come

And the wind which fails to come

(And blow us away)

(And blow us away)

(And blow us away)

(And blow us away)