I guess the blink
of the lights that in the distance go
marking my return
they are the same ones that illuminated
with its pale reflections
deep hours of pain
and although I did not want the return
He always turns to first love
the quiet street, where the echo said
Yours is your life, your love is yours
under the mocking, look at the stars
that with indifference, today they see me return.
Return with withered forehead
the snows of time, plated my temple
Feeling life is a blow,
that 20 years is nothing
how feverish the look
wandering in the shadows seeks you and names you
live with the soul clinging to a sweet memory
I cry again.
Feeling life is a blow,
that 20 years is nothing
how feverish the look
wandering in the shadows seeks you and names you
live with the soul clinging to a sweet memory
I cry again.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)