Después del resplandor
After the glow
I smell the coffee
another morning and awake.
How far I traveled... from what other Universe.
The eternity
gave us a little time
to taste the love inside the chest.
We agreed to cross paths to learn
and continue traveling afterwards
for another coffee
Where we go
after the glow, of the last color,
when we dream the last chimera...
Where we go
light again, as before being born,
when we jumped the last frontier...
And we let go.
Before
who knows where we went...
But this time the roads were touched.
while sea
I´m going on the raft with you.
It´s not by chance, but it´s a miracle
in the immensity
We agreed to cross to grow
and then set sail again
to another dawn
Where we go
after the glow, of the last color,
when we dream the last chimera...
Where we go
light again, as before being born,
when we jumped the last frontier...
And we let go.
This song was written many years ago.. (back in 1990).
For a long time I thought we´d scared off the ghost, but it´s still alive.
And I recorded it ashamed that we don´t learn more.
Ghost
Yesterday I dreamed
that the world had died.
and I cried
and silence accompanied me.
And there was no one who felt afraid
there were no words in his memory.
I wanted to run
again through its valleys.
I wanted to escape
again from their cities
and I wanted to fly like birds...
As before they flew, but it was late.
A loaded rifle was the ghost of the past
the only legacy of the human world.
Today I woke up,
but there are people who do not wake up
and wants power
At the expense of whatever.
He wants power, whoever dies
and in violence the earth dies.
They do not see
children who starve no longer dream
and they drink sherry
planning the next war.
And others later in the trenches
They lose everything to someone else´s account.
In my dream there was no
no parties, no flags
that they survived to rule the earth.
A loaded rifle was the ghost of the past
the only legacy of the human world.
It´s not that easy
It´s not that easy
understand why
a life is snuffed out at birth
or die forgotten
who did good...
I have seen the bad guy win.
Why another day
woke up without seeing
the old blind Joseph
or why Africa
lose faith
only bones and skin.
Only with bones and skin.
It´s not that easy
forget the brother who part.
It´s not that easy
let go of your free embrace in the air.
Is so easy
repeat clichés
that calm the bile for a while
and it´s so hard
avoid falling
with the abyss at our feet...
How fair
justice is
If it comes twenty years later...
or why the bullets
steal childhood
in Syria, in Iraq or in Yemen
and they never touch power...
It´s not that easy
forget the brother that part
It´s not that easy
let go of your free embrace in the air.
There is nothing else
To my three kings.
I can´t think of another way
to give you a light that you carry and turn on
Darkness.
There is nothing else you have from me
that it is still when already
I can´t hug you like this anymore.
Leave an indelible mark on your soul
of the only love that asks for nothing.
Plant in your life the fragile seed
let it grow on your skin wherever you go...
I can´t think of another way
to take care of you when you´re so far away
far from here.
Can someone take you away
bread and honor
but no one is going to steal love
of you and me.
Leave an indelible mark on your soul
of the only love that asks for nothing.
Plant in your life the fragile seed
let it grow on your skin wherever you go...
There is nothing else
what do you have of me
let it be when
I can´t hug you anymore...
Mud warriors
We are time travelers
looking for our place
We are the children of heaven
One day we can fly...
We are mud warriors
with fire in the heart,
muses move our hands
getting drunk with passion
Captive angels flesh and bones,
the only thing that one day will die.
Wandering lights.
Elves of the cosmos
Mystery and immortal magic.
Strange clouds.
Burning eyes.
Angel of good and evil.
We are sleeping seeds
waiting to see the light
subtle divine essence
like lute music.
We are our potters
shaping us as we walk.
The angel and the gatekeeper
of our own eternity.
We are free to stop being,
we own our end.
Wandering lights.
Elves of the cosmos
Mystery and immortal magic.
Strange clouds.
Burning eyes.
Angel of good and evil.
Because you are
with me
There are times when I have closed the door
the door above that leads me to you,
and although I open my eyes that light does not enter.
The light that illuminates my inner world.
I know that I can get out
because you are with me giving me faith,
like a protective angel lighting the way.
Among so much corruption, madness and desolation
I can't let myself fall.
Give me the strength to keep the promises.
Give me the courage to bear the pain.
I want in my soul a little of your hope,
I want to fight for peace.
My eyes do not see behind the walls,
my ears do not hear your voice clearly.
It would be so good to see you face to face
and feel your command calming the pain...
I don't want the scammer's money,
I do not want the caress of the hypocritical hand,
I do not want the flattery of falsehood
nor the advice of foolishness.
I don't want to share the table with the oppressor
nor with those who wash away their sins with charity,
I will not commune with a religion
who offers salvation in exchange for power,
merchants of faith...
Among so much corruption, lies and desolation
I don't want to let myself fall.
Give me the strength to keep the promises.
Give me the courage to bear the pain.
I want in my soul a little of your hope,
I want to fight for peace.
That pale light
I can see her glow in the dark
of a dystopian idiot world
a pale light on the few that still
they refuse to give them their will.
They count on you to believe they have power
and your fear feeds them.
They knows what you listen to and listen to what you think
multiply and make reality.
Old vultures fly over, evil machines.
Algorithms in the shadows, total control.
Owners of the truth orchestrate the inquisition.
Nets on fire hunting heretics.
Those "insane" who still keep the pale light
they refuse to give them their will.
A virtual maze becomes a death trap.
Shadows at the bottom of the cave...
The Machiavellian plan so invisible and lethal
prepares the checkmate to freedom.
Old vultures fly over, evil machines.
Algorithms in the shadows, total control.
Your lies are chains. They are tying you up
You are imprisoned without realizing it, you cannot see them...
They want us anesthetized
worthless and soulless
resigned to fear
without questioning anything.
Old vultures fly over, machines of evil.
Algorithms in the shadows, total control.
Your lies are chains. They are tying you up
You are imprisoned without realizing it, you cannot see them...
Windows of the soul
When i look in your eyes
I can see
even without speaking all your being.
your eyes never lie to me
your mouth yes
They can never pretend.
your eyes are like glass
that he does not know how to hide.
The windows of the soul cannot be closed.
When your eyes are bad, my love,
They look for the ground so as not to cry.
When you´re bad or the sun, my love,
will paint a sky in your eyes.
And if your eyes are fine, my love,
they envy nothing at dawn.
When you´re fine, your eyes are more than the sun
They can warm, warm my skin.
If I get lost in your eyes
I will take eternity to return.
Your eyes stop time and I´m there
in front of that sea, when I saw you.
They are like a glass
that he does not know how to hide.
The windows of the soul cannot be closed.
When your eyes are bad, my love,
They look for the ground so as not to cry.
When you´re bad or the sun, my love,
will paint a sky in your eyes.
And if your eyes are fine, my love,
they envy nothing at dawn.
When you´re fine, your eyes are more than the sun
They can warm, warm my skin.
Through those windows you let me enter one day
and you bare your soul without saying a word
just with that look.
The procession of the forgotten
Bare feet tread the streets,
the procession of the forgotten
Dancing they go, burning sorrows,
their souls will never have chains.
Singing they scare away their ghosts,
they carry swords at their throats.
They come marching from everywhere
all languages and ages...
He doesn´t want empires, he doesn´t want owners,
He doesn´t want to be bought his dreams.
Sing my people and join hands
so that all her saints can listen to her.
Your children want to speak the language
in which their grandmothers sang.
Faces marked by a life
Let others decide how it ends.
Their souls will never have chains
but pain runs through his veins...
He doesn´t want empires, he doesn´t want owners,
He doesn´t want to be bought his dreams.
He doesn´t want empires, he doesn´t want owners,
He doesn´t want to be bought his dreams.
Let no one come to steal your dreams.
He wants the bread from his hands
his wine wants to dance,
he wants his ancestors to mourn with dignity.
He wants the bread from his hands
his wine wants to dance,
he wants his ancestors to mourn with dignity.
The procession of the forgotten
Bare feet tread the streets,
the procession of the forgotten
Dancing they go, burning sorrows,
their souls will never have chains.
Singing they scare away their ghosts,
they carry swords at their throats.
They come marching from everywhere
all languages and ages...
He doesn´t want empires, he doesn´t want owners,
He doesn´t want to be bought his dreams.
Sing my people and join hands
so that all her saints can listen to her.
Your children want to speak the language
in which their grandmothers sang.
Faces marked by a life
Let others decide how it ends.
Their souls will never have chains
but pain runs through his veins...
He doesn´t want empires, he doesn´t want owners,
He doesn´t want to be bought his dreams.
He doesn´t want empires, he doesn´t want owners,
He doesn´t want to be bought his dreams.
Let no one come to steal your dreams.
He wants the bread from his hands
his wine wants to dance,
he wants his ancestors to mourn with dignity.
He wants the bread from his hands
his wine wants to dance,
he wants his ancestors to mourn with dignity.
The procession of the forgotten
Bare feet tread the streets,
the procession of the forgotten
Dancing they go, burning sorrows,
their souls will never have chains.
Singing they scare away their ghosts,
they carry swords at their throats.
They come marching from everywhere
all languages and ages...
He doesn´t want empires, he doesn´t want owners,
He doesn´t want to be bought his dreams.
Sing my people and join hands
so that all her saints can listen to her.
Your children want to speak the language
in which their grandmothers sang.
Faces marked by a life
Let others decide how it ends.
Their souls will never have chains
but pain runs through his veins...
He doesn´t want empires, he doesn´t want owners,
He doesn´t want to be bought his dreams.
He doesn´t want empires, he doesn´t want owners,
He doesn´t want to be bought his dreams.
Let no one come to steal your dreams.
He wants the bread from his hands
his wine wants to dance,
he wants his ancestors to mourn with dignity.
He wants the bread from his hands
his wine wants to dance,
he wants his ancestors to mourn with dignity.
The rope without
a net
There is no map, there is no plan, we came without a manual
no one said where to go. We just walk.
There is no compass or script, only the curtain was opened.
Neither rehearsal, nor prompter. We just improvise.
Everyone in this sea without moon or compass,
shipwrecked swimming against destiny.
There is no way to know what is under the skin.
Behind a good costume go the processions.
Each one with his cross seeks his own light.
The same key does not open two hearts.
Between stupidity and some lucidity
pale Quixotes against windmills.
The rope without a net hanging in the void.
We go foot after foot through the circus.
After a thousand storms
Crossing the river I wait for you.
we will tell each other life
without fears or vanities.
We seek to decipher the final formula
Lost in the mysteries of time.
Who can teach you the art of flying
if we are all like sand in the wind...
There are no wizards or gurus, minotaurs or voodoos
let them know what is hidden in your maze.
The rope without a net floating in the void.
We go foot after foot through the circus.
We fell into a game that's only played once
and can never stop.
We go foot after foot on the rope balancing
between glory and death.
In the end we arrived licking our wounds
and there is nothing but memories in an old backpack.
