Ilaria Crosta

You walked into the room,I just had to laugh

The face you wore was cool, you were a photograph
When it’s all too late, it’s all too late
I did not have the time, I did not have the nerve
To ask you how you feel, is this what you deserve
When it’s all too late, it’s all too late

Change, you can change…Change, you can change…

And something on your mind became a point of view
I lost your honesty, you lost the life in you
When it’s all too late, it’s all too late
We walk and talk in time, I walk and talk in two
Where does the end of me become the start of you
When it’s all too late, it’s all too late

Change, you can change…Change, you can change…

What has happened to the friend that I once knew, has he gone away?
When it’s all too late, it’s all too late

Change…Change, you can change…Change, you can change…
Change, you can change…Change, you can change…
Change, you can change…Change, you can change…

E tutto quanto ora faccio,

quanto ora sento e vivo

non sarà niente di più che un passante in meno

nella quotidianità di una città qualsiasi. 

Sono stato educato all’immaginazione,

ho sempre viaggiato dandole la mano, 

ho amato, ho odiato, ho parlato, ho pensato sempre per questo,

e tutti i giorni hanno questa finestra davanti, 

e tutte le ore sembrano mie in questa maniera. 

SM. I, 343 - Il poeta è un fingitore F.Pessoa