A flower blooms Until it gets cut or it dies, And a verse is but a luxury we have We are sons of the stars And of the song of the moon, Of the animal howl of humanity Sailing in empty arcs (of heavenly...) Sailing on (heavenly...) Sailing in empty arcs (of heavenly...) Sailing on heavenly bodies To witness the brutality and beauty, Silent exquisite scream! Sailing in empty arcs (of heavenly...) Sailing on (heavenly...) Sailing in empty arcs (of heavenly...) Sailing on heavenly bodies Bodies Bodies Bodies As a dream, far away from illusions Tender rawness of ill-fated vigor Sons of the stars And of the song of the moon A flower blooms... A flower blooms... A flower blooms...