I never imagined that with time it would end up happening.
That while lying on the left side of this bed
you're no longer by my side.
Projected on the ceiling our shadows seemed gigantic.
We believed that life would give us such a great destiny.
And the sky turned off the light.
You, a shooting star,
a fragment of the sun vanishes.
Sun, who sees you go by, wanting to forget and it doesn't dawn.
There's a lot left with which one can bundle up that even the cold complains,
and although I continue to be alert I can't find a loose caress.
And instead of leaving I'll reclaim your light.
You, a shooting star, a fragment of the sun vanishes.
Sun, who sees you go by, trying to forget and it doesn't dawn.
I can imagine you lit in my head,
but I can't explain to you that
the weight of your absence keeps me up turning off the sun.
I'm trying to fill a life of two.
No longer, does it dawn, no longer, does it dawn, no longer, does it dawn.
Without you, it doesn't dawn.
You, a shooting star, a fragment of the sun vanishes.
Sun, who sees you go by, wanting to forget and it doesn't dawns