Campanas En La Noche
Los Tipitos
Bells in the Night
A man in front of a window
Super lucid look
Explore the landscape and not
It's not your interior, it's the Moon
They are distant shadows of the forest
It's something rare in the stars
Sounds that induce fear
And also the melancholy of waiting
To wait
Waiting for her to come back and tell him
Here I am my love, there is no forgetting
Here I am, my love, I'm back, I've come
Can you believe it? There is no such thing as forgetting, my love
It does not exist
His restless mind is filled with stories
Your body is just memory
That's what you have to feel
With infinite patience
Walking the streets of others
Of men who finally feel sorry for themselves
Bells in the night
Noises of melancholy that await
What are they waiting for?
They expect her to come back and tell them
Here I am my love, there is no forgetting
Here I am, my love, I'm back, I've won
Can you believe it? There is no such thing as forgetting, my love
It does not exist
Tremendous delirium, literary fiction
Secrets that were prayer
Cursed mirror that at last
He doubled his entire life
Walking the streets of others
Of men who finally feel sorry for themselves
Bells in the night
Noises of melancholy that await
What are they waiting for?
They expect her to come back and tell them
Here I am my love, there is no forgetting
Here I am, my love, I'm back, I've won
Can you believe it? There is no such thing as forgetting, my love
It does not exist
