With a suitcase, he pounded on the table,
the stars to him, was flashing in the rainbow.
Few people just walk through the door.
what's in there they just don't know.

I see people afraid to tell the truth
but the dice, they still don't know who threw,
though the only think they need is live,
What can we do to make a man to be free?

The plane crashes, are killing people,
and we can hear and feel the wind blowing in the steeple.
and it's hard to think, but there are innocent in jail.
All we can do is let the white dove sail.

There are men, laughing at the rain,
while many others are running like insanes,
and what waits for them, they just don't know...
But standing still, the wind will blow.

People with sand in their pockets
have no chance to change their thoughts,
and the only think they need it's a old shoes
to bring their coins to their homes.

Things happen slowly when is for good,
even if you live in a rich neighborhood,
and if you have no fault, they won't care at all.
wherever you go, my friend...
Yes, wherever you go, my friend.