Like those frames awaiting to be hanged,
like the tablecloth of yesteday's dinner.
Always waiting that you'll say more,
and my pain words no longer want to fly.
The never said words dissolving in tea,
like the traitor saying he won't do it again.
I feel like I'm in a prison of love,
you'll forget me if I dont sign my declaration.
The devil will hug me, no doubt about that,
For looking at your face as you hear me talk.
Your everything that i love,
but I lost you in my silence.
My eyes are two balck crosses.
That can't talk never clear.
My heart full of shame.
And I a doll of cloth.
Every silence is a humble stay,
in the back of me while i can's stop crying,
I want to tell you how I feel,
that the moon of january will hear it while i see you.
I'm not afraid of the eternal fire,
neither am i afraid of its bitter stories,
but the silence is somewhat cold,
and my winters are long,
and by your returns i will be far,
between the verses of a tango.
Because this snicere heart
I promise its a doll of cloth.
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