| In the first time of a heartbroken love
|
| In the epicenter of a yesterday that woke up
|
| The best memory, my best version
|
| I still keep what was ripped from me
|
| The hurricane is gone and I'm left
|
| Who knows about the soul never takes it for granted
|
| Who is safe is because he fell
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| It was his mouth from him for my freedom
|
| When the river began to sound to me
|
| I was already swimming inside
|
| So much life left me in my eyes
|
| How much love of eviction, the palm trees are going to split
|
| The wind runs cleaning the streets
|
| The echo is heard as shops open in Paris
|
| I had what was never a lie
|
| The uncontrolled passion of a winter that is yet to come
|
| How happy I left that morning
|
| What madness spelled by my desire to feel
|
| At the farewell he looked at me without ties
|
| We did not need to understand what happened
|
| In black and white her hands searched
|
| The force with which I woke up
|
| And on my back her breath stayed
|
| So much life left me in my eyes
|
| How much love of eviction, the palm trees are going to split
|
| The wind runs cleaning the streets
|
| The echo is heard as shops open in Paris
|
| I had what was never a lie
|
| The uncontrolled passion of a winter that is yet to come
|
| How happy I left that morning
|
| What madness spelled by my desire
|
| So much life left me in my eyes
|
| How much love of eviction, the palm trees are going to split
|
| The wind runs cleaning the streets
|
| The echo is heard as shops open in Paris
|
| I had what was never a lie
|
| The uncontrolled passion of a winter that is yet to come
|
| How happy I left that morning
|
| What madness spelled by my desire to feel
|
| How happy I left that morning
|
| What madness spelled by my desire to feel |