In Winter,
when everything was cold,
I've been sheltered,

with her back home.
I was young,
she was my friend,

but I should have known better
that everything ends.


And the things you're saying,
sound OK to me,
'cause we both have been

to the boulevard of broken dreams.

I was your hero,

blue boy lost,
with a cigarette hanging from my mouth,
wrapped in my coat.

And when you'll leave,
you'll be a hero too,
here with me,

in the deepest blue.

Because where you're walking,

I've already been,
it's the same street of mine,
it's the boulevard of broken dreams.


I called you all,
'cause I believe in friends,

and now I see
that you believed in me.
And it's nice to be here

after we died,
it's nice to be here
somehow still alive.


And if you call my name,
I'll call yours,

and I'll set you free
from the boulevard of broken dreams.