I, who live in the moon
want to give you my grain of sand
you live in a lagoon
prisoner of the night
of inopportune laughter,
worthwhile sobs,
prisons of bitterness,
words that are chains
Why do you not serve
your sentence of sleepless nights?
For I am your prison
if you are my novel
I am your tragicomedy
you raise me like the foam,
I glide down your hips
if you fly me to the moon,
you will have a full moon
and your eyes looked at me,
and the moon fell from the sky
and your words spoke to me,
though lately I do not understand you
but I become so bad
each time your hair brushes against me
like an odd bug
Some new species of insect
But no, but no, but no
That's why, think of me as a dream
dream that I think,
send me a kiss,
Call me one of these days
I am in the subway without a signal
at the stop of your waist
and give some cheer to this sad figure.
Tell me a story, give me madness,
or soon I will make one up
but I become so bad
each time your hair brushes against me
like an odd bug,
some new species of insect
but no, but no, but no
And if I have to die
let it be in spring
so I can grow roots
and live always at your side
and if you have to leave,
take me in your suitcase
I promise not to weigh you down
be sure not to lose it
and your eyes looked at me...
and your words spoke to me...
but I become so bad
like an odd bug
but no, but no...
That's why, think of me as a dream
send me a kiss...
I am in the subway
at the stop of your waist
tell me...
Or soon..