A buena hora [English translation]

An autumn Sunday, 9 p.m.

Sitting in my room and thinking

about what time hides

Looking at the photos, reading your letters

shouting your name

An autumn Sunday, 9 p.m.

You called me a moment ago

after so many years

Maybe your conscience and my patience

became allies

You tell me that right now

you wish you were here

Next to me, next to me...

And I am barely smiling

in order not to start crying

You had so much time

and you didn't want to come back.

A little bit too late, you come to tell me

that I am that person

Who knew how to give you the things a heart cannot erase

Now you are wrong, too late

You come to heal the heart you left broken

And to change my life because now you feel like it

Too late...

An autumn Sunday, 9 p.m.

My mother - the experience told me

not to settle for this

Time and years place

someone where he/she belongs

What was born pure

also becomes corrupted

And you, how do you dare

to go back again?

You had so much time

you better stay the way you are.

Let me tell you...that a little too late

You come to tell me that I am that person

Who knew how to give you the things a heart cannot erase

Now you are wrong, too late

You come to heal the heart you left broken

And to change my life because now you feel like it

Too late...