Were they Mountains? Were they seas?
Were they the numbers? I do not know
Because of many singular things
I did not find you, I did not find you
And I waited for you, I called to you
Between the roads I lost myself
Was it a black cloud? A swollen tide?
And it was because of you, it was because of you.
The hands that I bring, my hands are these
They alone tell you
Whether My heart comes
from deaths or parties.
Such as I am, I do not invite you
To come and wait wherever I go.
Everything I have is having suffered
For my dream, lofty and lost
And the regretted enchantment
Of my love, of my love