| I grew up not looking down, | |
| The shadow of a mountain fell upon my town, | |
| A blueness in the distance, | |
| Living in my memory. | |
| Now I climb the creaking stairs, | |
| And walk upon a vanishing floor to get nowhere, | |
| A little Mussolini screaming in my mind, | |
| History will tell you lies, | |
| History will tell you lies. | |
| Your dream is buried by the dust of ages. | |
| Time to sing a travel song, | |
| For all the days that come and go, | |
| As we move on, | |
| Erotic summer heatwave buring in my memory, | |
| Travel over hills and plains, | |
| See the hidden valley's golden grass aflame, | |
| A mother tongue that licks away your secret fear. | |
| History will disappear, | |
| History will disappear. | |
| Your dream is buried by the dust of ages. | |
| Quite a load to carry, | |
| Everything that we have done, | |
| Searching my horizon for a glimpse of the millennium. | |
| Hasn't been so very long, | |
| we haven't even half begun, | |
| To peter out, | |
| A version of the future, | |
| Living in my mind, | |
| I'm leaving it all behind, | |
| It hasn't all been done, | |
| History will tell you lies, | |
| Your dream is buried by the dust of ages, | |
| On the Young Mountain all four winds will blow, | |
| From the Young Mountain wild rivers flow, | |
| History will disappear, | |
| On the Young Mountain a path unwinds, | |
| On the Young Mountain who falls shall climb, | |
| Climb the Young Mountain, | |
| Cross the first river, | |
| Swim the new sea. | |
| On the Young Mountain all four winds will blow, | |
| Leaving it all behind, | |
| From the Young Mountain wild rivers flow, | |
| History will tell you lies, | |
| On the Young Mountain who falls shall climb, | |
| On the Young Mountain all four winds will blow, | |
| From the Young Mountain wild rivers flow, |
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