Martes

I don't want to think if it's already Tuesday
I don't even know if I'm going to find you
I can't tell you, wish you
I know it's not going anywhere

The image becomes hypnotic
I immerse myself in your Semitic
I can't laugh, talk to you
I know it's not going anywhere

You'll see in the end that it's you who couldn't see me
I think you don't look at me for fear of recognizing yourself

Confused and not very pragmatic
The image becomes eternal
With this fanatical insistence
Of looking for me in someone else's skin

I understand that I'm wasting time
I see myself flying, ethereal
With this handling, hysterical
Ignoring what resonates with me

I want, want, want to imagine
That you stay in the middle of January
Flying low, touching the ground, trying to decipher myself
You know, you know I can
I know how to look at you and undress your whole body
I can't tell anymore if you're lying to yourself
Or lying to me

You'll see in the end that it's you who couldn't see me
I think you don't look at me for fear of recognizing yourself