Con Rumbo Al Abra

One and a thousand times, I heard this song
In vain searching for the words
That were hidden behind the beat
The central Sun of the galaxy

From the south the wind, to the south the rivers
From the south my flesh and my condition
Of impoverished Christian dog
And uninspired poet

Heading towards the estuary, the Sun is setting
Casting shadows over the mountains
Sowing night on the road
Where my ranch fits

Far from the big city
That has seen me flourish
From those who dream of me defeated, too
Far from the nasal clamor
That enhances the lack of control
And the unconscious without reason

From the south the wind, to the south the rivers
From the south my flesh and my condition
Of impoverished Christian dog
And uninspired poet

Heading towards the estuary, the Sun is setting
Of this damn dog's life
And I'm waiting under the three peaks
For you to decide once and for all

To move away from the city
That has seen you flourish
From those who dream of you defeated, too
Far from the nasal clamor
That enhances the lack of control
And the unconscious without reason

Far from the big city
That has seen me flourish
From those who dream of me defeated, too
Far from the nasal clamor
That enhances the lack of control
And the unconscious without reason