Antes de Semana Santa tenía unas ganas enormes de irme. Irme lejos, donde fuera. Pensé: "A ver si vuelvo con las pilas cargadas y retomo las cosas con ganas".
Ahora, una semana tras mi vuelta de Lisboa, aun habiendo sido un buen y entretenido viaje, todo lo bueno se hace breve, y aún tengo más ganas de irme, y más lejos, que antes de irme, sin ganas de tomarme las cosas con ganas, sin ganas de nada.
¿Dónde estarán esos momentos en los que la idea de hacer cualquier cosa, te ilusionaba y te hacían de dar siempre lo mejor?
Will I mend my broken wings someday? Will I fly again to the Sun?
Condemned to be stuck in the ground. Time will say.
I pack my case. I check my face. I look a little bit older. I look a little bit colder. With one deep breath, and one big step, I move a little bit closer. I move a little bit closer. For reasons unknown.
I cock my stride. I flew and flied. I know if destiny’s kind, I’ve got the rest of my mind. But my heart, it don’t beat, it don’t beat the way it used to. And my eyes, they don’t see you no more. And my lips, they don’t kiss, they don’t kiss the way they used to, and my eyes don’t recognize you no more.
For reasons unknown; for reasons unknown.
There was an open chair. We sat down in the open chair. I said if destiny’s kind, I’ve got the rest of my mind. But my heart, it don’t beat, it don’t beat the way it used to. And my eyes, they don’t see you no more. And my lips, they don’t kiss, they don’t kiss the way they used to, and my eyes don’t recognize you at all.
For reasons unknown; for reasons unknown.
I said my heart, it don’t beat, it don’t beat the way it used to and my eyes don’t recognize you no more. And my lips, they don’t kiss, they don’t kiss the way they used to, and my eyes don’t recognize you no more.
For reasons unknown; for reasons unknown; for reasons unknown; for reasons unknown.
