As every afternoon is
in the park to play
his old and tired instrument.
In the same bank sitting
a blanket on the floor next to him
willing to give the good side
and although it is come to less
He gives me a ballad for just one look.
From your years of experience
A thousand anecdotes tells me
I pretend to believe it like that
I like to see him happy
counting adventures and believing to be a violin.
Play for me, I want to hear you
I want to be part of your madness
we will put our score souls.
Play for me, I want to hear you
and that the last heartbeat beat
be a rose that springs from the last note.
There are people who laugh when they see him with his bow tie
his pants already gnawed
and some flowers that he has picked
adorning a shirt
that has sewn very quickly.
The crazy master plays
with a crazy sweetness
and a dove perches on his rubber shoes
nobody laughs, nobody speaks, those who mocked you.
He goes recostando and speaks, how hard is the table
I've stopped pretending, I do not want to see him suffer
counting adventures and believing to be a violin.
Play for me, I want to hear you
I want to be part of your madness
we will put our score souls.
Play for me, I want to hear you
and that the last heartbeat beat
be a rose that springs from the last note.
Play for me, I want to hear you
I want to be part of your madness
we will put our score souls.
Touch for me ....
Only among all we can make this a better place :)