Nomades (en inglés)

Nomades
I go to see, the storm is close today,
and I smell the salt from the blood.
I do not know where you're going my heart;
and I remembered, I will forget everything.

Uh, Where is my home?
Uh, my house away.
Uh, Where is my home?
Uh, my house away.
This time I just want to get out of here,
I know that death still remains way.
I go about this whole flow of unreason,
and I looked and I see nothing at all.
Uh, Where is my home?
Uh, my house away.
Uh, Where is my home?
Uh, my house away.