The Pets
Miscellaneous
It's Time To Go Home
Illnesses due to lack of air,
strange hangover nights and bad mood;
a thousand reasons to put distance
between me and this land made a prison.
Start in another place
where they don't know who I am,
recover that sweet pleasure
to hide and watch people.
Time passes and the wine of nostalgia
that you swallow in the afternoons when it gets dark
is recovering, by art of my hand gia,
forgotten gestures, noises and certain smells.
And the same thing that brought me
to go north there
now has a lost charm,
a warning that my day is coming because
content
I climb the steps of the train,
it's time to go home.
Content
I want to be reunited with my people
and see them the same but different.
I carry in my pockets a thousand addresses
full of memories that will fade with time,
like those colors of old photos
that I used to look at to get rid of my longing.
And even though next month
I will already think about fucking the field,
now I'm dying to go back;
the noise on the road sets the pace because
I am happy
I climb the stairs of the train,
it is time to go home.
Happy
I want to meet my people
and see them the same but different.

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