Fin de Año

We're all the same, no height difference,
we're all the same, same head width.
We had a father and mother,
grew up among stones
that were left by you, and by me
in a certain future
of our future
in another future.

We were born together and grew up this way,
branch of the same blue tree,
of the same indigo.
Today we have to get ahead of everything else,
and to hell with it if we know, we want to know more.

Let history's rifles be raised with courage,
let the kids blow up their homes with love.
Let the night and day switch places,
if we understand that something about time is wrong.

Ask me for songs, I'll sing your songs.
Nothing that happens here is foreign to my skin.
And the matters of living, nor the matters of dying,
because everything, for me is everything,
everything, for me is everything.

From a dark word,
to the height of a driver.
From a yellow stone,
to the umbrella that the sun has.
Everything, for me is everything,
everything, for me is everything.

From the deceptive height
that a mountain has at its feet,
to its very own head
that looks narrow but isn't.
Everything, for me is everything,
everything, for me is everything.