I never had my heart with more head;
it goes whistling, it goes on dreaming, but it goes.
With spare beats in the suitcase
neither surrenders nor stays close
of what else looks like.
Go, it's hanging at my expense.
It is pulling what hurts and what it weighs;
he sows what he wants and what he gives;
It is painted in one piece
inside a puzzle;
it goes, it is sewn in cloth;
Wind in their sails;
It goes, it hangs at my expense.
This heart is like a glove,
neither too small nor too big;
I have a tailor's heart
with sanity, without coverage
for from now on.
Go, go without hurry, without brake,
with patches but whole;
hanging by a thread,
with patches but alive.
On the sunny side of the street,
hesitating, going dreaming, but going,
this heart without labels
I have chosen my suitcase
and it goes, it's sewn in cloth,
Wind in their sails.
Go, it's hanging at my expense.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)