El Hijo del Viento
Sangre Argenta
The Son of the Wind
Just like everyone else, he was born
The son of the wind. With no place
To sleep, or anywhere to drop
Dead.
Master of the four cardinal
Points, lord of the roads,
Wisdom in never standing still.
Untamed being, humble solitude.
Life slips away like a tear.
Untamed being, humble solitude.
Life slips away like a tear.
Simplicity in his living, fighting
To carry on. Without begging on his
Knees to get a bone.
For not keeping quiet about the truth,
They look at you sideways and say in
A low voice, here comes the poor bum.
Untamed being, humble solitude.
Life slips away like a tear.
Untamed being, humble solitude.
Life slips away like a tear.
