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    Quanto fa male lavorare al male che
    compare a causa dei miei vuoti d'anima
    Sento l'inutilità obbligata delle scuse solite:
    il mio costume, la tua rabbia su di me
     
    (Come stavamo ieri... sarà così domani?
    Dimmi di si...)
    Come stavamo ieri... sarà così domani?
    Dimmi di si...
     
    Quanto fa male ritornare al gelo
    dei sorrisi uccisi dalle nostre lacrime
    Quanto fa male devastare gli argini del nostro scorrere:
    la terra é fradicia anche al sole oramai
     
    (Come stavamo ieri... sarà così domani?
    Dimmi di si...)
    Come stavamo ieri... sarà così domani?
    Dimmi di si...
     

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