Hétköznapi Mennyország [English translation]

Where did the people go who we once were, where is our sweet heaven?

The picture seems merely a dream, when you look back at us.

Mountains are shaped by the wind, stones by water, hearts by life.

The line's marching on, the road's monotonous, why would we not try to escape?

Where's our past, where are we hiding? Come, let's step out in the open today.

This is the same ground and the same sky under which once a flame ignited between us.

... come now.

This passion is so different, we may have grown up.

Although deep down that wild, impetuous girl is still alive in me.

Mountains are shaped by the wind, stones by water, hearts by life.

The line's marching on, the road's monotonous, why would we not try to escape?

Where's our past, where are we hiding? Come, let's step out in the open today.

This is the same ground and the same sky under which once a flame ignited between us.

Mountains are shaped by the wind, stones by water, hearts by life.

The line's marching on, the road's monotonous, why would we not try to escape?

Where's our past, where are we hiding? Come, let's step out in the open today.

This is the same ground and the same sky under which once a flame ignited between us.

... come now.

• Artist:Zséda