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The truth is in the high

Marco Prates

I’m walking on the streets

Of this immense city

I’m looking at posters and outdoors

That tell me how I should think and wear

How I should walk and act

Without even knowing where I should go

Without even knowing what is true

False prophets profane truthful religions

Some people lose themselves on their actions

They always try to tell me how I should think and speak

Without even knowing where I want to arrive

Without even knowing all the truth

If the truth is in the high          

Why do we live here?

If the truth is in the high

Why do we live here?

I’m walking…false prophets

I’m looking at…some people

That tell me, that tell me how I should think

Without even knowing where I want to go, where I want to arrive?