I was thinking on the good moments that I had with you
and every morning I wake up, but you're not here.
I'd like to know if you at least miss me like this.
It seems like melancholy has taken control of me.
They tell me that I only remember the good things (the good things) from you,
but, frankly, I don't thing there's a single bad thing about you.
I"d like to go back in time, only for an instant, and look at you.
I'd like to go back in time; the time when I was happy.
Why do we make mistakes? Maybe we like to suffer?
Maybe we like to put ourselves at risk and be happy in that risk.
We could have done so many things... even change the world
but we couldn't even change our own history.
They tell me that I only remember the good things (the good things) from you,
but, frankly, I don't thing there's a single bad thing about you.
I"d like to go back in time, only for an instant, and look at you.
I'd like to go back in time; the time when I was happy.