| I will dance and it will make | |
| The world rise from the dead beneath my feet | |
| I will wave the threads of sand | |
| That will fall on my breasts | |
| When i finnish my dance | |
| And when the breasts will set the rhythm | |
| My feet will worship the death of the floor | |
| I will announce the birth of the king | |
| Naked among the empty plate's splendour | |
| The laughter will return | |
| When the green walls reflected | |
| Broken glass can be burned | |
| I will dance and it will make | |
| The world rise from the dead beneath my feet | |
| I will wave the threads of sand | |
| That will fall on my breasts | |
| When i finnish my dance | |
| The laughter will return | |
| When the green walls reflected | |
| Broken glass can be burned |
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