Ciento once [English translation]

A hundred and eleven... is the room of a hotel.

A hundred and eleven... is the emergency number for those who feel alone.

A hundred and eleven... are the people who love me.

A hundred and eleven... are the people who hate me.

A hundred and eleven... is a flight ticket.

A hundred and eleven... is the perfect number.

A hundred and eleven... is me and was me.

A hundred and eleven... a recently born child

who will happily sleep on the back of the past.

And you say you're moved by everything,

like a child who smiles to the mist at dawn.

And you say your dreams are so trivial,

but early in the morning, you turn them into paper.

It is the magic and the poetry of a day that is escaping

while you only take a stroll at night

while going through the hardship of those who smile and cry.

Those who are like you are the ones who touch divinity.

And they will tell you that you're no longer the same

because they can't recognise you.

And they will tell you that you're no longer so sweet

because you know how to hide your love.

Speak, dream, dance

and sing non-stop.

Give your love away generously and

write it down believing

they already are a hundred and eleven or more kilos of fantasy.

Kilos of fantasy, no, no, no.

And you say you're moved if you hear my songs

about sex and love and other emotions.

Only in four minutes, your heart opens

and you dream of feeling already better than before.

The traffic lights and the greyness of a cloudy day.

At the bar, you absently drink something.

You listen to messages that you hadn't understood until yesterday

and that have read the heart of city angels.

And they will tell you that you're no longer the same

because they can't recognise you.

And they will tell you that you're no longer so sweet

because you know how to hide your love.

Speak, dream, dance

and sing non-stop.

Give your love away generously and

write it down believing

they already are a hundred and eleven or more kilos of fantasy.

Kilos of fantasy, no, no, no.

And if someone makes you look like a saint,

just tell them that you'd rather be a cat

and a TV that looks empty.

Follow your path.

If you see everyone looking at you with suspicion

is because they don't know much about respect.

If you see that everyone wants to see you in the mud,

leave them aside.

And they will tell you that you're no longer the same

because they can't recognise you.

And they will tell you that you're no longer so sweet

because you know how to hide your love.

Speak, dream, dance

and sing non-stop.

Give your love away generously and

write it down believing

they already are a hundred and eleven or more kilos of fantasy.

Kilos of fantasy, no, no, no.