Tragicomedia

I who live on the moon
I want to give you my grain of sand
You live in a lagoon
Of the prisoner night
Of untimely laughter
Tears that are worth it
Prisons of bitterness
Words that are chains
Why don't you fulfill
Your sentence of sleepless nights?
That I am your prison
If you are my novel
I am your tragicomedy
You lift me like foam
I go down through your hips
If you lift me to the moon
You will see a full moon
And your eyes looked at me
And the moon fell from the sky
And your words spoke to me
Although lately I don't understand you
But I get so sick
Every time your hair brushes against me
Almost like a weird bug
A new kind of insect
That no, no, no
That's why think I'm a dream
Dream that I think
Send me a kiss
Call me one of these days
I'm on the subway with no coverage
And at the stop of your waist
And brighten up this sad figure
Tell me a story, give me madness
Because if not, then I'll make it up
But I get so sick
Every time your hair brushes against me
Almost like a weird bug
A new kind of insect
That no, no, no
And if I have to die
Let me die in spring
To be able to take root
And always live by your side
And if you have to leave
Take me in a suitcase
I promise not to weigh you down
You try not to lose it
And your eyes looked at me
And your words spoke to me
But I get so sick
Almost like a weird bug
No, no
That's why think I'm a dream
Send me a kiss
I'm on the subway
And at the stop of your waist
Tell me
Because if not later