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In the seat of an old car
Abandoned in a junkyard in oblivion
With a joint between his fingers, a mean face
And with a cowboy hat and his holster
That scares him and in his body
There was no room for more sequels.
Of the stones that fell on him
He always said shouting to the sky
That one day it would be
As young as Billy the Gunman was
That he rode his horse every day
And from his neighborhood to the Plaza de la alegría
Where he locked the past inside a piece of paper
Where dreaming is as expensive as daylight is cheap
They were a figure of bitterness
He drank small doses of madness straight away
He confessed in a tobacco shop and went to church.
To smoke all the sins one by one
Wrapped Bible paper, he inadvertently arrived in Mecca
Of all the helpless
He always said shouting to the sky
That one day it would be
As young as Billy the Gunman was
That he rode his horse every day
And from his neighborhood to the Plaza de la alegría
Where he locked the past inside a piece of paper
Where dreaming is as expensive as daylight is cheap
He always said shouting to the sky
That one day it would be
As young as Billy the Gunman was
That he rode his horse every day
And from his neighborhood to the Plaza de la alegría
Where he locked the past inside a piece of paper
Where dreaming is as expensive as daylight is cheap
That he rode his horse every day
And from his neighborhood to the Plaza de la alegría
Where he locked the past inside a piece of paper
Where dreaming is as expensive as daylight is cheap
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