Espinos de Seda

Thousands of dead questions in an inkpot
A mind dried out from dreaming up big doses of sleeplessness
Milling about without a tissue and
A bed without a home

He touches his face from all those wasted hours
That wait that drives you crazy from so much and
So much waiting
I have a thousand shitty ideas so deserted
The door's half open and
A little bed without a home

(Why did you come to be born among so many thorns, love?)

Because you let me pray
Your illusion inside me
(Swaying, swaying
Swaying, swaying, this is my heart)

I was a mechano in your arms
A chromatic harmony
Half clown and jokester
In your unfriendly gaze
I was the limping centipede in your steps
A ring of drool on your fine pillow
An important photo of a big fuck-up
A note and a postscript of a huge screw-up

(Why did you come to be born among so many thorns, love?)

Because you let me pray
Your illusion inside me
(Swaying, swaying
Swaying, swaying, this is my heart)

My eyes are shedding tears on a paper diary
Wait or despair and
Waiting in solitude
We had a thousand things that
Were left undone
I remember we thought
Of love and eternity

(Why did you come to be born among so many thorns, love?)

Because you let me pray
Your illusion inside me
(Swaying, swaying
Swaying, swaying, this is my heart)