Luca Di Pasquale

Su polverosi sterrati dei sogni dello Zimbabwe Nelle salite dei pasti notturni bruciati dei villaggi Di stracci e matton…

Summer Night Midnight Moon Standing here Looking out my Light Beating all my melody hopes Listening only the noise of

Che limite e giustizia ha l'amore... I tuoi portici asciutti chilometrici di frenetica storia I tuoi graffitti sporchi s…

I thought of her wavy golden hair... To the tears that shed on our reality and at that hope repeated with that sense

It was just a Syllable little Dream... It was lying in my Brain Downtown Melbourne Street on the Way of Wide mercy