In the land of the big eyes
there's a strange sun.
It's a land where wax statues are silhouetted against the sky,
where clouds are mode of salt,
where horizons are wide and infinite.

There are reflections on wet sands,
there's the light of dawn.
A man's heart is buried and forgotten,
and every stupid traveller can't find his way back.
In the land of the big eyes there's what you don't want to see.

Big eyes, deep wounds.
The sky is crying bitter tears.
But, it's impossible to think that we are responsible
for hoving driven our hearth on the brink of precipice:
the lightest push is enough to...

So many eyes, but no one can see
just a bit over what he belives in
or thinks to understand.
The world is crying bitter tears.
But, it's impossible to think that there's no more space for our...

Dreams of a past time when we were not deaf.
Time when we used to smile, to dream.
Wonderful dreams thet scemed to be real.
Dreams that will not come back again.

The hearth is looking at me.
The hearth is sick.
I can't remember, so I put up my finger towards the sky.
Sky can help me.
Sky can give me big eyes to dream,
before it's too late.