What do you expect from this panorama, if you don't think that over there, beyond the horizon, there will be someone who will do as you do. Na-na-na-na-na-na Na-na-na-na-na-na Na-na-na-na-na-na You wait to find an answer to all this, pain that accumulates in the days until Friday, you force yourself to look at it, to find new rhythms, like four strings accompany you to the end. But what are the verses for, if you don't know what to say anymore? If the circumstances speak to you alone, a military jacket, a neuralist book, walking barefoot with that mixed expression. What do you expect from this panorama, if you don't think that over there, beyond the horizon, there will be someone who will do as you do. The climb towards nothing is always full of pain, and then break your head and think it was love. And then break your head and think it was love. A drink to the healthy taste of resignation, an ordinary intention for the usual song, to want to tell it without opening your mind. That you survived in some way for real. To throw yourself in the woods, to wear boots, like children in emotions when they are all the same. That you survived in some way for real. To want to tell all this is your thought. That you survived in some way for real. The climb towards nothing is always full of pain, and then break your head and think it was love. And then break your head and think it was love. What do you expect from this panorama? What do you expect from this panorama? If you don't know how to live it.