You are walking alone and the wind lifts
The dust of the grievance of separate lives
You can hear the weight of the falling rooms
Of the failing lives from the falling past
Tell me what is remaining of the memories
When all the cold towers take the place of the bricks
Where will the children play? And sing every day?
When nothing remains except the memories, ha
Broken city! Broken city!
If you walk by night, you can hear the shout
Broken city! Broken city!
You can hear the shout, of the falling walls
It's called melancholy when a ghost of the past
Moves in shadows of the deserted fields
Tell me when did we stop walking hand in hand?
Breathing the city's soul, like when I was a girl
And tell me what remains, except the deep and the down?
Except the melancholy of the broken grounds
Now you are walking alone and you can hear the weight
Of the falling rooms, from the failing lives, ha
Broken city! Broken city!
If you walk by night, you can hear the shout
Broken city! Broken city!
You can hear the shout, of the falling walls
Broken city! Broken city!
If you walk by night, you can hear the shout
Broken city! Broken city!
You can hear the shout, of the falling walls
Broken city! Broken city!
If you walk by night, you can hear the shout
Broken city! Broken city!
You can hear the shout, of the falling walls
