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How difficult it is to believe when the sun rises
With each morning that everything goes out
But how beautiful it is
Knowing that I can still understand why I came
Why I'm still alive, even though I don't know what I am
How difficult it is to accept that I am afraid of everything
How difficult it is to recognize it in its form and manner
How difficult it is to try to be yourself when you are in the abyss
Knowing that you are everything and nothing
If we call the moon the moon and death death, how can this be?
That when I look in the mirror I don't know who I am
The one who looks at himself and doesn't know that his thought is only
A mixture of barriers that hide their being
Like water and oil
And time runs out, the hours are drops
That fall into a glass that at the rate it goes
They sow my infinity with frost and granite
In my loneliness
How difficult it is to accept that I am afraid of everything
How difficult it is to recognize it in its form and manner
How difficult it is to try to be yourself when you are in the abyss
Knowing that you are everything and nothing
If we call the moon the moon and death death, how can this be?
That when I look in the mirror I don't know who I am
The one who looks at himself and doesn't know that his thought is only
A mixture of barriers that hide their being
Like water and oil
The world is upside down, nothing happens
If you feel lonely, it's okay.
That you are afraid to be, nothing happens
You suffer for no reason, nothing happens
You don't want to look, nothing happens
That will never happen, nor does anything happen
In this World of crazy people
Where there are not a few of us who think that we do not belong to it
And we are here to catch up on some subject that we left pending.
I fear that love is that pending thing
Well, as I'm feeling it
The more thought moves away from the law of matter
Turning my life into something ethereal
And finally forgetting
My personal war to exist
I feel that my steps
They were never mine at all
And maybe, maybe the path was marked
And although I was always clumsy
To see without interest
Unbecoming of a singer-songwriter whose home is his song
And he sells it without folds
What a beautiful teacher is life
That repeats the exam until you finally pass it
And if it's not in this life
We will do it in the next
I will be a student more, eternally
Now that I know where love is cool
In the present, in the now
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