My passion is made of tender heartbeats and tunes to the moon.
It's about empty nights on some old road.
And chaos on the wildest city.
And maybe there is some sort of god underneath the skies.
Some sort of magic where my perfect stranger lies.
My passion is never at rest, is stardust travelling on an open night.
And i wanna grasp my time, according to my burning heart. Heartbeats on an acoustic guitar.
Oh When Im aching to run. Still, here I stand.
Blue Passion under my skin.
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