But what can I do with this mess, what can I do with this shit.
Hicimos del lodo un camino de rosas,
Cantamos, lloramos en prosas.
Pintamos del cielo retratos, hablamos del tiempo y de todas sus formas. Hicimos un pacto sobre las olas.
But those waters have taken everything
And, what can I do with this mess, what can I do with this shit.
I hear my voice But it is not inside me.
I can hear your voice but it is not around here.
And, what can I do with this mess, what can I do with this shit.
thousands of miles, loneliness, You in another rivers. Another me.
How does it feel when you don\'t feel anything?