The ice is only a glass where I grow up
always too far to get the exit key,
when you say it was time for giving up
trying to hide everybody can see,
kicking low against what you dreamt:
all those words are going to lurk
because my soul tonight is moonless,
if you know that stop doesn´t work
be too silent to skip the darkness
and don't say what my minds ooze,
that caustic red is all but blood,
how they complain if they can choose
if my heart went away by a flood.
Don't be so sorry only by yourself
regaining love by the sixth door,
throw the ball far than the shelf,
blow a long way this sadness core
and whisper that time is not for you,
don't worry and the gift will be received
if you believe it won't came in a stew,
at last, the blessing is not for the bereaved.
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