I pack a couple of shirts, a hat
His vocation as an adventurer
Six tips, seven photos, a thousand memories
I pack his desire to stay
His condition to transform
In the man who dreamed and has achieved it
He said goodbye with a grimace disguised as a smile
And he begged his god crucified on the shelf
The He protects his people and endures the border as best he could
If the soft moon slides along any ledge
Without any permission because the wet requires
Check with visas that it is not from Neptune
The wet one wants to dry off
The wet one is wet
For the tears that come from nostalgia
The wet one, the undocumented carries the burden
That the legal one will not carry He is not even obligated
The price of a piece of paper has turned him
Into a fugitive and he is not from here because the name
It does not appear in the archives and he is from there because it dies
If the soft moon slides along any ledge
Without any permission because the wet requires
Check with visas that it is not from Neptune
Wet tasted like a lie, your truth
Anxiety tasted like sadness
Of seeing a freeway and dreaming
Of the path that leads to your house
Wet, wet from crying so much knowing that somewhere
A kiss awaits you, pausing since the day you left
If the soft moon slides along any ledge
Without any permission because the wet requires
br/>Check with visas that it is not from Neptune
If the universal visa is extended on the day we are born
And it expires in death because they chase you wet
If the consul from heaven has already given you permission