Nuova York Anno 4
The deathbed was bending towards him,
mocking and not moved to pity at all
for what he was feeling inside.
And his mother rocked him,
taking him to his new hell.
I was counting the passing ones...
I had already seen as many
as one couldn't believe.
While looking at the freezing scene,
I didn't feel tears fall down any longer
and my life was longing for flowers
and some careless lust for vengeance.
I never found the land of God,
or... may be...
I've been walking on it so many times,
wearily.
When the night falls,
the most beautiful son
is making for his own cross
and, on the cold asphalt,
he starts feeling his sorrow.
Nuova York Año 4
La cama de muerte se inclinaba hacia él,
burlona y sin compasión en absoluto
por lo que sentía en su interior.
Y su madre lo mecía,
llevándolo a su nuevo infierno.
Estaba contando los que pasaban...
ya había visto tantos
que uno no podía creer.
Mientras miraba la escena congelada,
no sentía caer lágrimas ya
y mi vida anhelaba flores
y algo de lujuria descuidada por venganza.
Nunca encontré la tierra de Dios,
o... tal vez...
he estado caminando sobre ella tantas veces,
cansado.
Cuando cae la noche,
el hijo más hermoso
se dirige hacia su propia cruz
y, en el frío asfalto,
comienza a sentir su dolor.