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Legend of Christmas

You talked to the moon, you played with the flowers
You were at the age that doesn't carry any pain
and the wind was a magician, the dew a goddess
in the woods enchanted by each of your ideas
in the woods enchanted by each of your ideas.
 
And the winter came that kills color
and a Santa Claus that spoke of love
and of gold and of silver the gifts shone
but the eyes were cold and they weren't good
but the eyes were cold and they weren't good.
 
He covered your shoulders with silver and with wool
with skin/leather and emeralds he wove together a necklace
and while you were enchanted you were looking at it
from your feet to your hair he wanted to kiss you
from your feet to your hair he wanted to kiss you.
 
And now that the others call you goddess
the enchantment is gone from each of your ideas
but still to the moon you would like to recount
the story of a flower withered on Christmas (day)
the story of a flower withered on Christmas (day)
 
Letras originais

Leggenda di Natale

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