Time makes our past
just a memory
a moment captured
in my mind
because it doesn't stand still
it drifts past slowly or hurries
it doesn't look back
it passes and never stops
I don't know if there's an end
or how much is left
what I want
is to try not to waste it
Thinking about my past
and my mistakes
I am taking up my life again
and the chances it gives me
with no regrets
When the time comes
when the time comes
when the time comes
how much more life will give us
when the time comes
when the time comes
whether slaps or caresses
whatever it gives me
An hour seems like a day
when I wait for you to come back
a day is an hour
if you're close to me
If I ever draw up the account balance
of this long journey
what I hope
is to have given something of myself
Maybe with weary eyes
and white hair
there will be time for this soul
that doesn't have time
and that seeks eternity