Now, under the spotlight, the climax of my poetry, the last curtain
of the story, the story of the man who did not let go of his pride
, whatever it was, it was like a warm and bright lantern,
it was like no one, it was like me. It was like me
because a bird if I trembled, under the rain if I was afraid I
forgave you my fear, I saw my fall with my own eyes
until I realized how heartbreaking it was.
That was my way. This was my way
, this was my way. This was my way.
A hundred sighs if I draw, I did not cut off a shadow once
if you kissed, I kissed a thousand times A
hundred sighs if I did, I did not cut off a shadow once
, if you kissed, I kissed a thousand times, the
wound of the shirt fold, the gift of a friend, it was time to leave
, I never came back.
This was my way, this was my way.
This was my way. This was my way.
Going, winning and losing, loving, burning and building
yesterday, yesterday was me, the hard way, my way, my
way, the way to get better. This was
my way, this was my way
, I was together, I was together, but I was myself.
I was together, I was on top of each other. But I was myself.
I was simple. I was dew. I was a balm for the wound of the flower.
My job was to revisit.
This was my way, this was my
way, this was my way, this was my way,
a hundred sighs, if I kissed, I did not cut off a shadow,
once if you kissed, I kissed a thousand times
, if I kissed, I did not cut off a shadow,
once if you kissed, I kissed a thousand times, the
wound of the shirt, the gift of a friend, it was time to leave
, I never came back.
This was my way, this was my
way, this was my way, this was my way.
