The barber locked his shop at noon, Dragged a television to the street, Plastic chairs formed crooked rows Where strangers claimed a common seat.
A boy arrived with dusty trainers, Carrying a ball beneath his arm, Certain that the distant future Had already written down his part.
At the corner sat an old man, Watching pigeons cross the square, He remembered matches lost to history That survived within him there.
Across apartment blocks and farm roads, Across harbors, mills and trains, The same expectancy assembled Like weather gathering before rain.
(Chorus)
For a month the earth grows smaller, Maps surrender line by line, Factory towns and coastal capitals Share the very same design.
For a month the earth grows smaller, Accents mingle in the air, A fisherman and a banker Carry equal burdens there.
The goalkeeper rubbed his gloves, The scoreboard glowed against the dark, One strike waited in the distance Like a match beside dry bark.
In a kitchen someone paused mid-sentence, At a station no one moved, Traffic lights changed without witnesses, Every gaze remained glued.
Then a net received the football, And the city lost its shape, Car alarms joined the celebration, Windows shook for several blocks.
(Chorus)
For a month the earth grows smaller, Maps surrender line by line, Factory towns and coastal capitals Share the very same design.
For a month the earth grows smaller, Accents mingle in the air, A fisherman and a banker Carry equal burdens there.
A substitute becomes a headline, A favorite boards the flight back home, One photograph enters an archive, One mistake survives alone.
Years proceed and faces alter, Stadiums receive new names, Yet old conversations still return To those unforgettable games.
(Chorus)
For a month the earth grows smaller, Maps surrender line by line, Factory towns and coastal capitals Share the very same design.
For a month the earth grows smaller, Accents mingle in the air, A fisherman and a banker Carry equal burdens there.
Confetti drifted through the rainfall, The trophy climbed above the crowd, Morning found the streets exhausted, Though the night had spoken loud.
And somewhere near an empty playground, After everyone had gone, A child placed a ball upon the grass And carried the tournament on.
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