In your bedroom
With all the promises made to you
And with them you realized your lack of dignity
To accomplish or destroy them.
When you ask for rescue
Because you think is possible
Although you already feel the betrayal
Because in the hope to be saved
Already tickles in you the desire to repeat it again.
Firm is the column
When your sight is strait
But you can not contain it
With the desperation of a tragedy
That is not enough to seal a commitment.
Do not look above any more
If you still like to maintain your feet in sand
And finish reciting excuses
If you really want something impossible.
The street can be soft yet
As it provides rest for each fatigue
And the pieces always end fitting
If you decide to get out of the play on time
If you do not remember an image from a point
If you still believe the air you breathed could link
You have a premonition with someone who pretended you honestly
Perhaps the walls finally give up
And you do not even need the base of your inner ear
To pass standing the night where the sun shines
Without lighting more than the slope plenty of parties
Maps, guides and signals where all the beginning is condemned to an end.
Four thousand years are worthwhile
Like four millions centuries
Unless, rather than changing the planet
You can transform a bunch of stars in only one
Able to fit in you as solitary act of faith.