Chicos En El Pasto
Babasónicos
Boys In The Grass
You talk about love, and the angel that caresses your waist,
convinces me that I have no cure,
it's better if you start over.
You talk about love.
You say yes, and every morning is a smile.
I can tell when she lands.
Better together, let's fly again.
You say yes.
Your body wants more.
Your soul wants more.
Your body asks for more.
Your soul asks for more.
You rise.
You know the secret of the gods
who learn to forget the foolish touches.
Naked like an angel, you rise.
You rise.
A heart,
a heart asleep on the grass,
feels you and begins step by step
to understand that the grass is you.
A heart.
Miracles are:
the brightness that the morning emits,
the Buddha advising your gaze,
the sounds of the flowers being plucked,
the cacti of the Sonoran desert,
the shadow of that tree with a thousand leaves.
