I am here, the same as yesterday
with one more day.
And I throw away my best time
waiting for a love.
And every day it repeats itself
and every now and then? Sunday,
but I stay here
with my imagination.
And you arrive
in my thoughts
and you light up again, just as you were,
among the memories there is not noise
and you don't feel any pain.
But no,
you hurt me,
but something makes you forget,
it can't be explained with words
br/>This is perhaps why it's called love.
Who knows? if then in your new thoughts,
I'm in it too.
And who ever knows if among your feelings
you find me and feel me.
If you don't want too lose
the habit of living
with the rules
invented by us.
And you arrive
in my thoughts
? almost a year, but it seems like yesterday
and I'm losing the belief
that I was always right.
But no,
I hurt you,
but something what makes you forget
can't be explained with words
that's why maybe it's called love.
And you arrive
and I think back to yesterday:
I didn't miss anything when there 'you were,
but what if we do something? come back
we will learn to call it love.

ENVIAR CORRECCIONES