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You are always at the end of my steps when I arrive
You are not the way I want to give you
If I paint you I have to do, brush strategies
You are the reins of the wind steed
You, fury of color, you sneak into my voice
You, you play as you pass, you smile and then you leave
The sky of your kingdom
When you dedicate yourself to painting my canvas alone
You make the hours in which the blue is gray
A network of tenuous shadows to dress
You are shipwrecked, seductive in a mystical world
You move in the night, magical bodies
If the sun outlines the clarity and the neon has to go out
You make dreams You, to give as a gift
You, fury of color, you sneak into my voice
You, you play as you pass, you smile and then you leave
To times a day, banish your forms
Other times the voice of each hour echoes you
You make the image, which I could not distinguish
A tireless memory to pursue and that is that
You are always at the end of my steps when I arrive
You move magical shadows in the night
You, fury of color, you sneak into my voice
You, you play as you pass, you smile and then you leave