In the Mediterranean
In this tub where black-eyed
children play
There 're three continents
and centuries of History
Prophetes, Gods
the Messiah himself
There's a beautiful summer
that doesnt fear the fall
In the Mediterranean
There's the smell of blood
floating on the borders
and countries, bruised
like so many open wounds
barbwired islands
imprisoning walls
There's a beautiful summer
that doesnt fear the fall
In the Mediterranean
There are olive trees
dying underneath the bombs
there where the first dove
appeared
Forgotten people
reaped by the war
There's a beautiful summer
that doesnt fear the fall
In the Mediterranean
In this tub I played
when I was a kid
With my feet in the water
I was breathing the wind
My playmates
have become men now
Their brothers, who are
abandoned by the world
in the Mediterranean.
Heaven is mourning
above the Acropolis
and there isn't a word anymore
for "freedom" in Spanish
We can always dream
about Athens or Barcelona
There's a beautiful summer
that doesnt fear the fall
In the Mediterranean.
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