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You, like quicksand
like an elevator on the roof
like love that has not reached its flight
without a dream materialized in reality.
You have me, I'm dying alone and without luck
you break my heart to pieces
you have me, I wear patience,
but don't think I will wait.
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Like the breeze that caresses your face
tied to a stormy cold in autumn,
while you peel off my seeds that fall into you
you have me, but you know I won't wait
like the palm that caresses your hands
tied to your whims in vain
while you strip my seeds from skin to skin
you leave my illusion living in the shadows.
You, like mud in the desert
you break my blood, you clot my veins;
do you think I don't feel
that I don't live
what do you think I am?
What am I made of cardboard?
Oh oh ooh oh!
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