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I give you my voice
in the corners
where you and I are alone.
I give you my voice
and I can barely get up without your smell.
Look again,
stop your skin,
and look for the warmest thing about being
the director,
who is always writing the story on a paper.
How many clouds have to break over me?
How many nights must I declare war without you?
I just want to hear:
That without me you see yourself lost like me
and that you regret what did not happen,
tears of you, without April,
your dark voice calls me when there is no color,
and keeps me awake at dawn.
Your heart is locked away without consolation.
Your heart
breaks me to pieces
when I sing your song.
Go back,
freeze me
and look for the most magical thing from yesterday
and maybe that's how you will discover
how long I waited for you.
How many clouds have to break over me?
How many nights must I declare war without you?
I just want to hear:
That without me you see yourself lost like me
and that you regret what did not happen,
tears of you, without April,
your dark voice calls me when there is no color,
and keeps me awake at dawn.