Todo El Mundo Tiene Su Moncada

Thank goodness there are
Those who have nothing to lose
Not even death

Thank goodness there are
Those who don't measure what words to say
Not even the last one

They lean towards night and day
And sweat if it's hot
And if it's cold, they move

They don't expect to cast shadows or roots
Because they live
Shooting against scars

They listen, project themselves, and cry
Underneath
Their footprints, with so much work

They die without saying what death
Knowing that in glory
You're also dead

Thank goodness there are
Thank goodness there are
Thank goodness there are to make us

Thank goodness there are
Those who have nothing to lose
Not even history

Thank goodness there are
Those who never stop searching for themselves
Not even in death
Searching like that