Under your bed, hides a memory...
a distant thought covered in dust...

No one ever felt this close...
I'll always be a shore...

It's fine
fine is the weather outside...

What did you do?
I shot the sky with my rifle...

Two bottles, two bottles
that's all it was...

Please, turn the candles on and pray.
Today at recess, I was mad...

So I want to rhyme, is that a crime?
I can assure you is not a waste of time...

Mis poemas se transforman en suenos, suenos...
----------- Translation...

There's something, something,
something about you...

With fingers
in my lower back, my spine...

Fears are vultures in the nights
soaring thirstily, and hungrily...

It's not a day or a night that I would like,
Or an afternoon or a midnight that I would prefer...