Balada para un hombre buscado

He put on his best boots on the feet of illusion
with dreams going the wrong way, he left for the city
and in the sea of dreams he threw himself to shipwreck.
He toughened up next to the dark skin, of the warriors in the south
he took shelter from the storms in the mountains of Metan
and sang to the moon alongside a chorus of wolves.
He never wanted to see where his soul would anchor
but he knows how to read the dust on the skin.
Nothing will change his animal pace
and wrapped in solitude the wind will come looking for him.
He put on his best boots on the feet of illusion
with dreams going the wrong way, he left for the city
and in the sea of dreams he threw himself to shipwreck.