Lyric

A fine rain on the streetlights

We're standing here, sheltered

Hands in our pockets, glances touching

Who knows if our hearts recognize each other

A year has passed, or maybe more

The city is the same, but many of us... have changed

Do you remember the last argument?

A black cloud that turned off the lights

Maybe it was a trivial thing

But pride did the rest

And now we're here, telling each other a little about ourselves

With a forced smile that hides our troubles

I tell you I've traveled, I've seen the sea to the north

You tell me you've moved house

And a little of your world too

And everything I tell you, I thought for you

To let you know that I'm fine

That life can sometimes be a beautiful movie

And everything you tell me seems like another reality

A life and a story you wrote for me

I learned to cook, new and strange dishes

I have a job that keeps me busy

Even on holidays

I met new people, laughed at every joke

But sometimes I get lost and look for your address

I pretended nothing happened when I saw your photos

But a part of me, a little hidden, was hurt

You ask me if I have a story, I don't answer

Because I wouldn't want to hurt you if I tell you I live in a world

Of ghosts and memories, that clash with each other

And that every now and then, I remember you

Yes...but also your moles and a little of your scars

And now we're here, telling each other a little about ourselves

With a forced smile that hides our troubles

I tell you I've traveled, I've seen the sea to the north

You tell me you've moved house

And a little bit of your world too

And everything I tell you, I thought it up for you

To let you know I'm fine

That life can sometimes be a beautiful movie

And everything you tell me seems like another reality

A life and a story you wrote for me

Maybe we should have told each other the truth

That we didn't find happiness here and there

That I always knew you'd never come back

Because I know I'd never come back either

But here we are, in this rain that never stops

With our beautiful stories, with our hearts torn to pieces

And maybe one day, without making a sound

We'll tell each other, without any more pain

That life is a little sadder without the two of us

And that every beautiful thing is a little less beautiful

If not experienced together, by those two of old

Without travel stories, without half-truths

But with a hug, and a tear already falling

It might be because of this tear already falling

That perhaps it's rain... but I don't want to tell you... another half-truth