Once I understood that my voice was not mine,
that it was all of the world, of the sea and the days.
And I took her on my journey between love and horror
and I sang night after night although nobody saw me.
When I was just dragging my feet
to arrive so late to my house again,
leaving behind smiles, smiles of paper.
And philosophy was a daily issue.
The one that learns any solitary troubadour.
And I thought about the cursed contrasts that there are
between a trip to space and a child without bread.
And some time ago I stopped dragging my feet
but he kept on passing life after
with their smiles, smiles of paper.
Once I was cold of all things;
of a love, a toy, an old rose.
And I hurried my career between objects like this
and sure nobody remembers me.
And you still hear the whistle of a train
and the world is in rags, I see it too.
With their same smiles, smiles of paper.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)