The goddess of my street
Looks to where the moon
Is used to get drunk
On your eyes I believe
That the Sun, in a golden dream
Will seek for clarity
My street is a boring one
But when your figure that seduces me
Passes through it
Such humble small street
Turns into a picture of a party
Turns into a waterfall of light
On the street lies a puddle
Mirror of my sobbing
Taking the sky
To the floor
As the floor of my life
My moved soul
My poor heart
Mirrors of my sorrow
My eyes
Are puddles of waters
Dreaming of your look
She's so rich and I'm so poor
I am a commoner
She is a noble
Dreaming with her isn't worth anything