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Two animals from a wild verb
With a mortal embrace
Of brilliant and wicked lineage
Under the rain they walk
They're so alive, they've grown a new skin
And in this poisoned world
They trick the God that's beneath their feet
No one shuts their mouth
No one knows their wounds
Suitcase packed and course set straight to the sun
They have set fire to their clothes
They have learnt to dance life
May they never have their freedom stolen
They are sons of the verb 'to love'
Flesh blessed by the land
Long live these crazy lovers
Shout at the top of your lungs your war song
Long live this revolution
And long live the love of those desperate few who kiss
Just in case this moon were to be the last
On top of their book of sins
They will swear to forget the fear of loss
No one shuts their mouth
No one knows their wounds
Suitcase packed and course set straight to the sun
They have set fire to their clothes
They have learnt to dance life
May they never have their freedom stolen
They are sons of the verb 'to love'
No one shuts their mouth
No one knows their wounds
Suitcase packed and course set straight to the sun
They have set fire to their clothes
They have learnt to dance life
May they never have their freedom stolen
They are sons of the verb 'to love'
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