Astillas

Since I moved I can't recover
You're not like the one mom imagined
It's late for the sun, early to do it better
Burning splinters I go
Satisfying you well is all she's going to do
Passing the tongue over that I'll close later
Drying in the sun at night they won't see her
Collecting the leaves she left
Burning splinters I go
Collecting the leaves she left
The princes I see
Arrive listening to the bacon
Hey elf, I touch you, I laugh, I hang and I go