Paroles et traduction Lax'n'Busto - Amnèsia

Amnèsia

Sense por, amb els ulls tancats, tot, desapareix
I tot el que has pensat ja no existeix.
Continues adormit amb el volum avall,
Les boques parlen sense fer soroll.

Ja no et pots fer enrere
Però pots anar endavant,
Només tu sembles escoltar,
Al trànsit del matí,
Remors d'un mar llunyà.

I a la nit no acaba el dia,
El cel un full en blanc
I un batec dins el cap.
Les paraules ja se'n van.

Com bombolles de sabó, només mullen la pell,
Un globus aerostàtic, és on ara vius,
Les paraules que has sentit, que tant t'has estimat,
Les tapen els tractors de la platja de Pals.

Ja no et pots fer enrere
Però pots anar endavant,
Només tu sembles escoltar,
Al trànsit del matí,
Remors d'un mar llunyà.

I a la nit no acaba el dia,
El cel un full en blanc
I un batec dins el cap.
Les paraules ja se'n van.

Quan et decideixis,
Obre els ulls i digue'm
Que avui no és un miratge.

I a la nit no acaba el dia,
El cel un full en blan
I un batec dins el cap.
Les set de la matinada,
Les paraules tornaran.

Amnesia

Without fear, with eyes closed, everything disappears,
And everything you've thought no longer exists.
You continue sleeping with the volume turned down,
Mouths are talking without making a sound.

You can no longer go back,
But you can go forward,
Only you seem to listen,
In the morning traffic,
Remorse of a distant sea.

And at night, the day does not end,
The sky a blank page
And a throbbing in your head.
The words are already gone.

Like soap bubbles, they only wet the skin,
A hot air balloon, that's where you live now,
The words you've heard, that you loved so much,
Are hidden by the tractors on the beach of Pals.

You can no longer go back,
But you can go forward,
Only you seem to listen,
In the morning traffic,
Remorse of a distant sea.

And at night, the day does not end,
The sky a blank page
And a throbbing in your head.
The words are already gone.

When you make up your mind,
Open your eyes and tell me
That today is not a mirage.

And at night, the day does not end,
The sky a blank page
And a throbbing in your head.
At seven in the morning,
The words will return.