With false steps, false folds, each one of us carries his own life, in his own way. When we are beautiful deep inside, one day or another, someone sees us, in his own way. Even under the rain of bad days, I followed the line of love, in my own way. For all the sorrows that I carry, I put my heart in quarantine, in my own way. My life, my life, I only have one, but I want it free and lawless. I have the right, it is mine. My life, my life, it tells me stories, but they sell better than a song, better than glory. My life is not really my life, it is for those who have chosen me, in their own way. By leaving my name in the streets, I put my happiness above, in my own way. And the evening where I will die, finally I will do it, in my own way. I would like to return to reign in peace, to say goodbye to the sun, in my own way. My life, my life, I only have one, but I want it free and lawless. I have the right, it is mine. My life, my life, it tells me stories, but I don't care, even on my knees, I will believe them. In my own way. www.mooji.org