Historia de La Silla

On the edge of the road there is a chair
The scavenger prowls around that place
The friend's jacket is lying
The friend doesn't sit down to rest
His worn-out shoes are mirrors
That burn his throat with the sun
And through his tiredness an old man passes
Who dries the sweat with his shadow

On the tip of love travels the friend
On the sharpest tip that must be seen
That tip that digs into the ground
Into ruins, into a trace of a woman
That's why he is a soldier and a lover
That's why he is wood and metal
That's why he plants roses
And reasons of flags and arsenal

Whoever has a song will have a storm
Whoever has company, solitude
Whoever follows the right path will have chairs
Dangerous ones that invite him to stop
But a good song is worth the storm
And company is worth solitude
The agony of haste is always worth it
Even if the truth is filled with chairs