Friday, 7PM

You can force it but it will not come

You will find it when you're not looking for

Again and as always, the only way

Sin edad, sin voz

No hacia falta escuchar, ni hablar

La intriga siempre es una buena herramienta,

como un martillo o un rompecabezas

Let's do it again, let's go down the waterfall 

En blanco y negro

En chino

En loto

Todo

And mi flight to Timbuktu is departing...

Time, fool me again

Time, please, do it again

She wears out

She looks like a real fake
She taste like a real fake
And she is scrambled

She passes and makes me sigh
She makes me incredibly sad
And she is fading out

She shine with her kitten smile
She runs but she miss her path
And she is ready

And she wears out
And she wears out
And she wears out

(Fake Fake Plastic Trees)

Hilos y agujas

Quedan aún algunos hilos, finitos
Esas migas que aún no se comieron los nuevos pájaros
Ya no quiero mas pájaros migrantes
Ya no quiero mas pájaros por el momento
Voy a colgar otra vez mi mente de la soga
y que se seque de pasados
Mas lentes oscuros, mas caminatas, mas caminatas
Lentes oscuros para mirar hacia adentro

Ya tendré años donde la fe será obediencia