I woke up
With my fists tightly clenched
And the insolent rage
Of my youth
The naivety
We cannot make mistakes
Let each one contribute whatever I know
They made you bread
And there we consumed you
And revenge is such a useless trail
This is my place
And this is my thorn
Iberia submerged
In its clandestine rumors
You ask questions
With seeds of answers
And I know your path by heart
I don't think I'm watching
Where the majority
br/>From their owner hugs
Without a way out, they give way
Now that
You suffer from insomnia
You would like to die in a nap
This is my place
And This is my thorn
Iberia submerged
In its clandestine rumors

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