I’m a bridge
I’m the the cardboard girl
We’ll be dancing on the embankment
How many mistakes
I’m a bit
I’m trying the place before better
Making the impasse or the play
Of the misfortune
I’m a bridge
Erected for diversion
That they stretch to the feather
The waiting halls
I’m more than
A bridge so fine screen
Ready to my air and the pie
I’m leaving
I’m a bridge
I’m the dead season
The intermission alone at the balcony
Of amertume
I’m the injury
Of love without impostures
When I stretch miself in understudy
After death already
I’m a bridge
That they borrow backwards
Polite counterfashon
I’ve got the profile
I’m still the one
Who’ll connect
Put in the way, wrongly
I’m obedient
I’m a bridge
I’m the cry without the sound
The brief meeting without effusion
Giving the back
In the end, I am
Only another recreation
Only a lot of consolation
Which you trample