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The trucker turns on the radio and night falls,
the lights on the road are like dreams,
they approach slowly and when they arrive
they leave again.
In the cabin, the photography, the Playboy girl, she stares at him, she doesn't let him sleep, he knows that those aren't great things, but they are his dreams ,
those little dreams that also help to live.
She hung a photo of me above the bed,
I know that the father doesn't like it, but I I'm still there,
crucified on the wall without being able to do anything,
I only stare at her when she goes to sleep.
She knows very well that those are not great things,
but they are his dreams,
those small dreams that also help to live.
My mother would put flowers on the old man's photo
and stare at him before sleep,
she knew that those were not great things, but it was her dream,
those small dreams that also help to live.
I have a hat, a pair of boots, my love and my guitar, she stares at me and I don't want to sleep, I know they are not great things, but they are my dreams, those little ones The dreams that also help me live.
And so I get lost walking when night falls,
the lights on the road are like dreams,
they slowly approach and when they arrive they leave again
they are the little dreams that also help to live,
they help to live.