Campanas En La Noche
Los Tipitos
Bells in the Night
A man facing a window
Super clear gaze
He travels the landscape and no
It's not his interior, it's the moon
They are distant shadows of the forest
It's something strange in the stars
Sounds that induce fear
And also the melancholy of waiting
Of waiting
Of waiting for her to come back and tell him
Here I am my love, forgetfulness doesn't exist
Here I am my love, back; I have come
Can you believe it? Forgetfulness doesn't exist, my love
It doesn't exist
His mind, restless, is filled with stories
His body is just memory
It's what must be felt
With infinite patience
Walking the streets of others
Of men who finally make him feel sorry
Bells in the night
Sounds of melancholy waiting
Waiting
Waiting for her to come back and tell him
Here I am my love, forgetfulness doesn't exist
Here I am my love, back; I have overcome
Can you believe it? Forgetfulness doesn't exist, my love
It doesn't exist
Tremendous delirium, literary fiction
Secrets that were prayers
Cursed mirror that finally
Duplicated his whole life
Walking the streets of others
Of men who finally make him feel sorry
Bells in the night
Sounds of melancholy waiting
Waiting
Waiting for her to come back and tell him
Here I am my love, forgetfulness doesn't exist
Here I am my love, back; I have overcome
Can you believe it? Forgetfulness doesn't exist, my love
It doesn't exist
