El Centinela Y El Alquimista

(spoken intro)
The grimace of some sacrilege from the rubble
I wanted my path to unfold from the mouth of my ashes
In the grave of some fatal wizard
Where the sound of hands that invoke
Pulls the smile from the deafest of lights
Looking through a drain
At the whole planet of your skies
And in that sermon of the remnants
It keeps calling me: that light, its story
That rocks the cradle of indifference
With no other remedy than what’s already been read
By the old Sentinel to his beloved Alchemist
In the sleepless whim to keep living
(end spoken intro)

I’m longing to find you, to decide whether to stay
Or face some dragon
I’m hovering over the throat of fate
Embracing your beauty marks
That close their eyes in front of me
I feel like I’m slipping away every moment
Between the glass of silence
And the shadow of your voice

I slide down the skin of that breeze
Above the fire
Of arms that watch the lesser street

And I see you standing there
Alchemist of the adverse
And it’s like this, Sentinel in your night
In your usual rounds

I’m searching for that distant embrace
That twists sideways
That stitches to my reason
Wants a heart in the ground
With the cold well seated
I’m looking among the gestures of a spell
Among the remnants of a death
That terrifying dream

To walk those unique streets
And shelter you in your cities
The grave, the hope is shaken
Someone’s going to resurrect it
I hope it’s today

I wanted some luck to unleash
To steal some verses from Serrat or another song from Ubiergo
I feel like you left and came back
If you were born, I’m lucky, I just hope to be me
And not mess up the decision

Come out to accompany the twilight
Let your fingers blow, let the silence keep it in a drawer
Under that careless moon
Keep seeing that life isn’t being imprisoned in the eyes of a voice

I’m caught up in such corrupt mandates, fireflies of fear
Murderers of illusion
I want to be perhaps a holocaust
A bloodied memory
I want to be the wound that kicks the memory of a stone
The mark of the heart
I want to be your next move
If luck is your gaze
I want to be the time that exceeds the passing moment
The eternal thinker
In the arms of the farthest star
I’ll place that shot that weaves words that hurt

Just like the rains to the songs
They’re born from storms, from cold, from lava of love and illusion
And they lie hidden in streets ready for you

And it’s like this, who I see standing
Alchemist of the opposite
And it’s like this, Sentinel in the night (your night)
In my usual rounds
In my usual rounds