I bare scars on my hands. They remind me not to plan. You fabricate illusions I just can’t understand. Why must I cry? Why give me signs and why must I feel the pains of disappointment’s shady games? Save your lies, avoid my cries. Can’t make up for our wasted time.
Llevo cicatrices en las manos. Me recuerdan que no debo planificar. Fabricas ilusiones que simplemente no puedo comprender. ¿Por qué debo llorar? ¿Por qué me entregas señales y por qué debo sentir los dolores del sombreado juego de la decepción? Ahórrate tus mentiras, evita mis llantos. No tengo como recuperar nuestro tiempo desperdiciado.
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