Once upon a time,
in Piazza del Limbo, in a city with a name pretty hard to spell,
stood for the good and stood for the bad,
with a stick in one hand and asking for water,
it was a man with the feet in the dirt and the heart on fire

run, run, run
and love, love, love
you’ll find everything a young boy desires
both for the angels and for the devils
gold for the poor, enlightenment for the few
rise from the dust and reach for the stars
can you tell the difference in the hard of the night?
can you see the light if you’re born without eyes?

Sitting on a stone which in rain and in cold he called home
where St. Peter used to climb and pray for the people,
he embraced his shadow and he starts to write
words forged in darkness with the truth he could harness…

run, run, run
and love, love, love
…

In Piazza del Limbo where stories are turning to dust,
where the sky lost its stars or the night is always young,
he knelt at the bottom of the stairway, hands locked in prayer
for the sixty steps that were, for the sixty yet to come…