prisionero inocente
Poeta que considera el portal su segunda casa
On this empty street, that one time
we were trying to hide our dreams,
under the sky of my eyes, never shines
again the light of the sun, but the tears.
Butterflies not choose the gardens, but the flowers, my love,
happiness comes with the pain
as the clouds with the rain
from the sky that above
has no sun,
since you are gone,
today here is nothing, you was all.
Time decide the changes just now
and change the decisions, my love,
i am afraid that tomorrow, somehow,
will to be late to change all the sorrow
in joy, to make love from hate.
When is nothing to feel
is then when is real
what i am without you,
and what can i do?
Just to wait, not to live or to die,
with my soul beating outside the time.....
we were trying to hide our dreams,
under the sky of my eyes, never shines
again the light of the sun, but the tears.
Butterflies not choose the gardens, but the flowers, my love,
happiness comes with the pain
as the clouds with the rain
from the sky that above
has no sun,
since you are gone,
today here is nothing, you was all.
Time decide the changes just now
and change the decisions, my love,
i am afraid that tomorrow, somehow,
will to be late to change all the sorrow
in joy, to make love from hate.
When is nothing to feel
is then when is real
what i am without you,
and what can i do?
Just to wait, not to live or to die,
with my soul beating outside the time.....
