Here I am, glass between my fingers
And unknown people around us
I would sell my life in pieces
To be as you want for a minute
But look at me, I'm not the man that you thought
Poor mother
Yes, I know... time passes and you don't do it any more
Waiting...
Here, there is never anyone that speaks to me of you
I lose myself in the smoke of thousands of words
To pretend that...
And I still search for something in the silence that is here
Along this path I find again
The traces of you
You know...I always have that memory of you
Sitting, you caress my face and then
You stay there, with that deaf smile
Of who knows, that has ended their days
When I too, will have something, maybe I will stop
Hurting myself
Not now...I'll be sitting in this bar
Waiting...
Here, there is never anyone that speaks to me of you
I lose myself in the smoke of thousands of words
To pretend that...
And I still search for something in the silence that is here
Along this path, I find again,
The traces of you
Along this path, I find again,
The traces of you