Por Caminos Estrechos

The hats are soaked with rain
on every corner of my room.
I still have that blonde's number,
but then I feel even worse.

The criminals have made their escape.
The detectives are heartbroken
watching dirty movies
and game shows.

I'm losing altitude
about to be left in the dark
like a winter afternoon.

You won't find me,
you want to take the easy way out.
You won't find me,
I can't roll through narrow paths.

The hats are soaked with rain
by the edge of your heart.
I don't need a lullaby,
I don't need a love song.

Astronauts aren't going to the moon,
the stages were made of cardboard
watching foam silhouettes
under a charcoal paper sky.

I'm losing altitude...