Charlone

Sliding, sliding...
We will never forget what we were.
Laughter, anger, and departure.
Looking, looking for them...
The leather has burst and its pieces are lost,
Drunk now sober and without thorns.
You just like yesterday, always you,
The sweet wait of the dogs that stay,
They wait howling, it's a promise.
I see you giving birth, always beautiful there,
Painting the wings for the day they escape...
If those I lost come back, you call me...
Shining so far away, the skies fly,
Crossing the plains, I don't know if you laugh anymore,
The calendar has killed those days,
And all this blood keeps flowing.