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± PPS (tempo): ♩ = 144 pulsaciones por minuto
Someone’s selling garden roses Down the square, People gathering by to breathe The morning air, But no one sees the bitter cold And shivering empty hands. A schoolgirl running by and trying To beat the bell, People dropping, tossing coins In wishing wells, But no one cares for dreams That don’t fit into our world. Chorus: Maybe nightfall Darkens skies And maybe teardrops Stain our eyes, But may the slightest light Start a fire. A soldier in the hands Of a forgotten mess Digging out the burning bullets In his chest, So eager, bold and noble – Printing footsteps on this earth. Chorus: And maybe nightfall Darkens skies And maybe teardrops Stain our eyes, But may the slightest light Start a fire, Start a fire. But may the slightest light Start a fire.