Coming sta, la luna, coming sta,Coming sta, la luna, coming sta.I
am not fighting, but I’m the night,I am not dying and I’m not
hurt.I am the right or the wrong, your hope,I am the dancer on
the tender road.I am the water and how I can flow.I have
ambition to that,I’m not falling you know,I sound like singing
the flow,I am the dancer on the tender road.Coming sta, la
lunaAnd why don’t you call me sta?Flowing over Babaluma,It ain’t
your friend.You can do it aloneAnd you don’t have to payAnd if
you don’t free your windowThere is nothing to shame.But I don’t
play easy,It’s secret, the truth,I was fading in water,There is
nothing but you.You can look through the wall,You just smile it
for sure,She comes in white flowers,There is no way to go.Coming
sta, la luna, coming sta,Coming sta, la luna, coming sta.It’s
never heard,Speak through the voice of the water,Stretch the
curse beforeWhile you can think and be different.The foe of your
brothers,Be the king of the rainWhile you’ll be playingFull from
the strain pool.Coming sta, la lunaAnd why don’t you call me
sta?Flowing over Babaluma,It ain’t your friend.You can do it
while you run,Play alone in the lightAnd you freeze so
gently,There is my own of the matter.La, la, luna, la, la,
luna,La, la, la, luna, na, na, na,Flowing over Babaluma,It ain’t
your friend.Coming sta.
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