| My being is blinding my eyes,
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| she’s the judge of my lethargy… inside the sea.
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| Subtle range of tones
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| impregnate my innocence with roses of salt.
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| Waters of the marshes feed my verses of sand
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| they reveal the art creating…
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| She cultivates smiles in this oasis of sadness
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| you are the owner of its shores…
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| I usually escape and breathe…
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| next to this sea full of life, wonder and melancholy
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| sometimes I like to play inside my mind…
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| different lights lead my way depending on my destiny…
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| The path that leads my way far from the sea,
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| far from the sea… of roses… it’s drowning…
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| Never ending memories
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| everlasting sensations, where are they going?
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| The balance of death,
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| my ego fills up with strength… it’s growning more.
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| Bridges that take me from instinct to reason
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| are rising all around…
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| Rivers in my entrails over glass rubbles
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| with direction to oblivion…
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| I used to think and meditate
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| and how a star helps me go through that hawthorn path.
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| I used to cry but I never spill
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| any black tears for her in my lonely bed.
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| The path that leads my way far from the sea,
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| far from the sea… of roses… it’s drowning… |