You did not believe he was right
Thinking you should win him with reason
And then you defeated by fatigue
Finding that it was not worthwhile and that was it.
Maybe it was because
Now you could not change
That our directions are very different
Conserving the same sense, without a sense.
Then, you would not have to return
Even if you come back to my door again
Reciting a prepared speech
And after it, you will overflow with sincerity.
In South America, under a February sun
White dresses on brown skin
Footprints on sandy streets
Moving with the wind, and knowing it.
A grievance as a neckband
Hopes rather than illusions
Eyes opened to certain ignored things
Somebody who wants and believes it is not possible.
A female story and one of music
Who uses a name without the other person permission?
And the thoughts of someone who suspects
Because in the imitation it is perceived the opposite.
So, you also serve people
Like everything and everybody
Like all your breaths and your denials
Like being aware of suffering but ignoring pain,
Once offered defenses prescribed by laws
The task of the Pontiff comes to an end
It is opened the time of victims
Where sentences are always foreseen,
What will say on you those who already died?
And all you will say of those who will survive you
And one night, maybe this, or perhaps none
I will look at you perceiving things that I ignore.