under this grey suburban sky
between the last breath of the first millennium and the dawn of the second one
there was no way to laugh or cry
before returning to shiver like a shout in the wind
between end and beginning
that night I tried to fix over time a thought of victory
the intimate one
closeby
even without a race, without fear
and without glory
at least to leave a sign of my crossing
however, under this grey suburban sky
behind our every shout, dust
so come what may
Marco Bo
between the last breath of the first millennium and the dawn of the second one
there was no way to laugh or cry
before returning to shiver like a shout in the wind
between end and beginning
that night I tried to fix over time a thought of victory
the intimate one
closeby
even without a race, without fear
and without glory
at least to leave a sign of my crossing
however, under this grey suburban sky
behind our every shout, dust
so come what may
Marco Bo
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