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They left us the bullets
and a swarm of bees
that was their treasure and a rusty night.
They lifted us up in their arms
we discovered planets
we believed ourselves to be as strong as war heroes.
And in the middle of the lightning the altitude sickness arrived
we were thirsty in the air but mouth on the ground.
Now you light up the hours
with winks that escape
covering the memory with silver trays.
And we miss each other so much
that we want to take off
in avenues of glue, nailed by the knees.
And in the middle of the lightning the altitude sickness arrived
we were thirsty in the air but mouth on the ground.
The antenna is open waiting for a signal
the signal that does not reach this waiting room takes an eternity.
And the perfect treasure was covered by the storm
with planes crossing in the blackest night.
And in the middle of the lightning the altitude sickness arrived
we were thirsty in the air but mouths on the ground.