Nómadas

At the end of the end, where the sea no longer reaches
the nights burn, the light never goes away
When will we stop

The road doesn't go where you want to go
like Jack Kerouac, always against the wind
Here is never a good time

Nomads without a city, tired of waiting
look at the road, see the days go by
when will we stop

There are no songs on the radio that talk about what we dream
There is no future, it has already happened, the present is not seen
We will never go back
The distance brings us closer

You feel alive, on the platform
That feeling of not having missed your train

Don't ask me why we will never go back

You feel alive on the platform, the broken strings know it well
You feel alive on the platform, that feeling of not having missed your train.