Inciso (part. Ana Belén)

We talk all the time
About the fleeting and the brief
About wanting to erase and rewrite our diary
About the years that have passed in just one season
About a favorite show that ends without us wanting it to

About rolling down the window to smell the sea again
About spending 24 hours trying to stop them
About the never and the almost, the maybe of the volatile

How clumsy is the second
That never beat the minute
How selfish is the clock that wants us to be wanderers
Pins of nostalgia hold us without permission
When the heart and soul just ask for an interlude

We talk all the time
About trying to be happier
Psychologists in sips cover our scars
To see who’s worse off
Or who seems more sane
When we’re born without a suitcase and no return ticket

We teach the other without being masters of our own
With pockets full of deserts
Of the never and the almost
Of the maybe of the volatile

How clumsy is the second
That never beat the minute
How selfish is the clock that wants us to be wanderers
Pins of nostalgia hold us without permission
When the heart and soul just ask for an interlude

In love with the moment before everything
With what your eyes hold
In the moment before I love you
The infinite always tries to hide
In every comma it plays
Watching how our fate runs

How clumsy is the second
That never beat the minute
How selfish is the clock that wants us to be wanderers
Pins of nostalgia hold us without permission
When the heart and soul just ask for an
An, an interlude