Who stops is Lost.

Italian version

(Merry christmas Eve, everyone!)

.

All this road traveled,

all these things lost,

along the way.

All these people who have decided

Of not being with me anymore,

in this eternal war,

in this eternal journey.

Among all the trains, ships, planes …

Being with myself,

often living in solitude.

Thinking I’m okay with being alone,

but often, lying a little to myself.

But I know there is nothing else to do,

than to keep going.

Because I don’t think you can live,

trying to recover continuously.

Because maybe that would be

The greatest of loneliness.

I don’t want to think about what’s lost,

I’ll keep the pain,

I will keep the silences,

I will keep this baggage,

because it’s my luggage …

on this long journey.

I get up,

after falling so many times,

I don’t stop,

to never get lost.

.

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