Cerca de la revolución
Its confusing everytime that its real
I been looking up to climb over the hills
Now I think I like myself more when I dont try so hard
When I give up and I realize that being depressive Its not that bad
Its seeing the things as they really are
Not having so much hopes on future its afterall
the only balance I get to know by now
I do not look so desperate It's more like resigned
But I look so good that you wont even have the right
to touch me there where once I asked
you to tear off all of my scars
When And who?
Made me believe this of me?
I dont have one to blame
The guilty is always on me
Cause I feel so deserving of it
Cause you cant or dare either to blame something theres is not there
If only you would be braves
I want as much as you I assume
a soul that has hold in its hands
the pain that now embraces me
But if we all want the sacrifices of people
and it's not us who must be the brave ones
where is real power set?
And what if theres a chance for us
to burn the blames just how we burn leaves ?
We could break the chains Set our selfs free from pain
But why would be us worth?
Or what would be art for?
Or what would be truth goals?
If live wouldn't consists In transforming reality in something better
That is what real strength means to me and each one of us is able to do it somehow since we are alive
