Como El Água y Aceite
Melendi
Like Water and Oil
How hard it is to believe
When the sun rises
With each morning
That everything fades
But how beautiful it is
To know that I can still understand
Why I came
Because I'm still alive
Although I don't know what I am
How hard it is
To accept that I'm afraid of everything
How hard it is
To recognize it in its form and manner
How hard it is
To try to be oneself
When you're in the abyss
Of knowing that you are everything
And nothing
If we call the moon the moon
And death death
How can it be
That when I look in the mirror
I don't know who is
That looks at me and doesn't know that his thought is only
A mixture of barriers that hide his being
Like water and oil
And time is running out
The hours are drops
That fall into a glass
That as time goes by
Sow my infinity
With frost and granite
In my solitude
How hard it is
To accept that I'm afraid of everything
How hard it is
To recognize it in its form and manner
How hard it is
To try to be oneself
When you're in the abyss
Of knowing that you are everything
And nothing
If we call the moon the moon
And death death
How can it be
That when I look in the mirror
I don't know who is
That looks at me and doesn't know that his thought is only
A mixture of barriers that hide his being
Like water and oil
That the world is upside down
Nothing happens
That you feel lonely
Nothing happens
That you're afraid to be
Nothing happens
That you suffer without reason
Nothing happens
That you don't want to look
Nothing happens
That it will never happen, nothing happens
In this crazy world
Where we are not few
Those who think we don't belong to it
And that we are here to recover some subject
That we left pending
We believe that love is that pending thing
Well, according to logic and feeling
The thought moves further away from the law of matter
Turning my life into something ethereal
And finally forgetting
My personal war to exist
I'm feeling that my steps
Were never completely mine
And perhaps, maybe the path was marked
And although clumsy, I always was
To see, without interests
Unsuitable for a singer-songwriter whose home is his song
And sells it without deceit
How beautiful life is as a teacher
That repeats the exam until you finally pass it
And if not in this life
We will do it in the next
To be a student again, eternally
Now that I know where love resides
In the present, in the now
