I'm walking alone again, with my headphones on
And I don't want this anymore
To hit the streets without a chord
Now this city is my song where I submerge myself
Taking a long walk around the block
Every little step, every single step becomes a note
That I draw on the staff lines of the sidewalk
I'm walking alone again, with my headphones on
And I really really wanna run
But at this moment, I'm listening to a very very soft song
I'm walking alone again, with my headphones on
And now I speak and I'm screaming
Because I can't hear my own voice
I'm walking alone again, with my headphones on
I have to walk between smog behind sungla**es, inside my clothes
Sometimes I feel that every simple thing has a sound
And if it does--what kind of shape does the silence have?
Even if the silence is still with me
No one can hear it
Even if the silence walks with me
No one really hears it
Sometimes I feel like everything has a sound
And if it does, what kind of shape does the silence have?
A sparkling new?
A pocket size?
A white one?
A smoke one?
One that you can use as a tatoo
Or as a flag as an umbrella to protect you against the rain of noise that the city has?
Or maybe it's a package, where the secret comes from
Even if the silence is still with me
No one can hear it
Even if the silence walks with me
No one really hears it
Even if the silence is still with me
No one can hear it
Even if the silence is still with me