It’s that game of not knowing who.
I close the door and say no more
That sense of privacy stolen
desires forgotten
rule and create clouds around.
A soft whisper on my ear
makes me feel uncomfortable
but subtly I begin to see
the world through your eyes.
That sense of beauty
in the face of strangers
in the face of somebody
who can express something.
Open conversations on a candle light
of facts and desires of our simple life.
I go neurotic and there comes my rage
but you go tender and there comes your smile.
A soft whisper on my ear
makes me feel uncomfortable
but subtly I begin to see
the world through your eyes.
(Sin musicar todavía. Todo llegará.)
