To care, or not to care

To be you there

In the distant and uncertain

To be aware

In an old iberian hotel room

That the devil

Is not behind the curtain

She said walk in small steps

And fear floating

We made a pact

A certain approaching

Leaned on the sky

The smoking cigarette

Said it's late

You should be going

The wind is howling

The house is showing.

Boat to an island on the wall

A hand striking in slow motion

Future singing in the field

Shooting season's open.

To care, or not care

To be aware

In your absence an angel chose this for you

You're supposed to laugh

Tell your fortune to the sailor

This is the black mountain pass

These hours the sun shines to moonlight, black.

Boat to an island on the wall

A hand striking in slow motion

Future singing in the field

Shooting season's open

Boat to an island on the wall

A hand striking in slow motion

That's it, that's it all

Shooting season's open.