Navajas de Cartón
Medina Azahara
Cardboard Knives
I can see the fire of a volcano,
burning the city,
drowning it in the sea...
hysterical screams.
Misery lives in its mansion
cardboard knives
a body in a corner...
discouragement.
They’re cardboard knives
but in your heart
they sink without a trace.
They’re cardboard knives
but in your heart
they sink without a trace.
They always move through the darkness
trying to hide
the shine of the metal
between their fingers.
The horse starts to ride
with no reins to hold,
only in the darkness
and in the silence.
They’re cardboard knives
but in your heart
they sink without a trace.
They’re cardboard knives
but in your heart
they sink without a trace.
