Llegar A Viejo

If they took away the fear, and left us what we've danced to face the present... If we arrived trained and with enough spirit... And after giving it all - in fair exchange - everything was paid and the retiree card opened all doors... Maybe getting old Would be more bearable, More comfortable, More enduring. If yesterday wasn't forgotten so quickly... If they were more careful where they step... If we lived among friends who at least occasionally passed a ball... If tiredness and defeat didn't taste so bitter... If they were putting lights on the path, as the heart grows timid... and the guardian angels showed signs of life... Maybe getting old Would be more reasonable, more peaceful, more passable. Oh, if old age were a degree...! If one didn't arrive orphaned at that moment... If it had more advantages and fewer inconveniences... If the soul got passionate, the body got excited, and the legs responded... And from the piece of sky reserved for when it's time to hand over the team, they distributed advances to the neediest... Maybe getting old would be a real progress, a good finish, an ending with a kiss. Instead of cornering them in history, turned into ghosts with memory... If it wasn't so dark around the corner... Or simply if we all understood that we all carry an old person within us.