Abysmo

<br>Men with both roots and wings<br>they tie us down and ask us to leave<br>they are teachings unheard, they are bodies on smoke<br><br>Men with both roots and wings<br>at a singular voice we moan<br>our teachings mislead, our teachings like smoke<br><br>we sleep between the storm that was<br>and the storm which has to come<br><br>We`ve learnt to learn everywhere<br>and the very own nature has taught us to wait<br>difference does sound like sin, equality reliefs<br>and that fame rhymes with hate yet everything is fair<br>on the intervals of your death<br><br>misguided demons or forthcoming heroes<br>each one with an important name<br>nothing else than an important name.<br><br>Men with both roots and wings<br>at a certain time we are one<br>our little tricks, our innocence stubborn<br><br>Men with just little wings, men with just little minds<br>Men with just little eyes, men with just little deeds<br><br>sleeping between the storm that was<br>and the wind which fails to come (and finally)<br>blow us away.