García

García opens his eyes and enjoys the landscape
You're thinking about what's coming and you forget
Where you've arrived and how tough the journey has been
You remember on Lydia Street playing ball
Always feeling somewhat crazy and somewhat broken
The smallest of the three, and the most sane

Many believe I have it all figured out and know where I'm going
And still in the mirror many times I don't even know who I am

I want to get off this train for a moment, but I can't
And turn to Sundays with my old man, which were good
I'm (I'm) letting go of what weighs me down I'm (I'm)
Healing my mind I am
With those who matter to me
And I have in my corner the bravest, even if they are fewer (uh, uh)
Even if today we are fewer, yes

I'm afraid of getting lost in this wave of fiction
I'm afraid of dying on a plane
Of becoming a cardboard artist
Of drinking all the rum, and ending up on social media making a fool of myself

I'm afraid my family won't call anymore
Because for sure Kany is traveling
I'm afraid of losing her
That she takes the dog and leaves no trace

Oh, and every day I repeat it
All roads lead to Puerto Rico
For the tour, wherever I stay
For life, a hammock in Cabo Rojo

I want to get off this train for a moment, but I can't (but I can't)
And turn to Sundays with my old man, which were good
I'm (I'm) letting go of what weighs me down I'm (I'm)
Healing my mind I am
With those who matter to me
And I have in my corner the bravest, even if they are fewer (uh, uh)
Even if today we are fewer
I don't care, no

García closes his eyes and gives thanks because you know
Where you come from, but sometimes you forget