Arenas Movedizas
Joaquín Sabina
Quicksand
Tomorrow when I was so small
By the Bishop's Cliff I fell
Chasing a bird with no owner
And landed in an arsenal
Quicksand
Under a tar sky
Shells that agonize
Without saying a word
When the rooster on the payroll of dawn
Arrived with his cock-a-doodle-doo
I woke up dreaming that I was traveling
Naked with a briefcase
Quicksand
Under a rented sky
Pins that agonize
Before being born
To my appointment I went but the horizon
Had grown tired of waiting
Saint Peter called me by my name
And I didn't want to answer
And quicksand
Under a starched sky
Steamships that land
Without asking for forgiveness
Quicksand
Under a licorice sky
Elevators that agonize
By the scar
