What kind of fool am I
to believe that I own the sun
in tenderhearted, enchanted mornings,
singing a ballad of a worried prisoner
who has secret storms in his blood,
and his sweet melody is calming down
my storms and my distress...

What kind of fool am I
to believe that I once lived in a castle,
and til the morning of the midnight
I was reading tales of the darkest knight,
but then... a strange voice through a cloud
called me “the unearthly child”, out loud...

What kind of fool am I
to believe that the grass is my pillow.
I'm like a downhill dreamer,
walking barefoot in the park,
hand in hand,
waiting to be called into
the Promised Land,
saying the holy vows of Heaven...

What kind of fool am I
if I dreamt the sky burning
as I walked on midnight's alley,
feeling dispossessed of the
sweet things that seem so far...

What kind of fool am I
if I play the game of survival
in the longest season of rain and lightning,
if I take a second glance at life
and catch that amazing moment
when two wrongs can make a right
and don't want to give up, not without a fight.

Well, I must say:
I'll get through all the barriers one day,
even if I end up being the last star from the left,
cause love... will always make me sail like fool,
as long as I'll breath
the miracle of life in my chest.