Los Inmortales
Enrique Bunbury
The Immortals
The Moon is already peeking through the clouds
And, your face, in this last light
It betrays you in the final scene
Of Sherlock Holmes' favorite case
You nailed yourself to the cross
And you stayed
Definitely still
A thirsty camel in the desert
Does not make verses, nor illusions
Lost the meaning in what you write
Lost the bean in your stoves
Lost the signals of rhyme
You are not paranoid
Nor is anyone chasing you
Just try to find
Your space
When everything around you
Is closing in
The immortals are
Underground
And their ashes will be lost
Like everything else
Leaving no trace
The Moon is already peeking through the clouds
And, your face, in this last light
It betrays you in the final scene
Of Sherlock Holmes' favorite case
You nailed yourself to the cross
And you stayed
Definitely still
You have come out of the stubborn house
Of a sad and helpless past
And long like a sitar string
On repeated magnetic tape
Like a memory of a city
Whose pain
No longer concerns you
Just try to find
Your space
When everything around you
Is closing in
The immortals are
Underground
And their ashes will be lost
Like everything else
Leaving no trace
Just try to find
Your space
When everything around you
Is closing in
The immortals are
Underground
And their ashes will be lost
Like everything else
Leaving no trace
