Carrer

STREET

Any old street serves to fill the time

Smoking our sorrows away as the sun descends

You used to restate every afternoon

That everything would soon blow up


All we’ve done is what was explained to us 

To follow the script of what we aimed to be

You used to restate every afternoon

that it would amount to nothing in the end.


And in an instant the street turns to fog

and you’re forced to choose which side you will stand on 


We are the open hands, we are glowing faces,

we are all the weird and the worthless,

the sail that trembles as it cuts the winds


We are glowing faces, we are the open hands…


Any old street in the hood

Smoking our sorrows away the night will pass,

There was no point in getting ready

if the world was going to blow up


We didn’t know what fucking up meant

Until one day they raised a mirror to our faces.

When they knock on your door,

who will you want by your side?


And in an instant the street turns to fog

We are the open hands…


The bonfires, the caresses,

the proclamations amidst the fire,

the scars of life,

The world we carry in our hearts.


…the open hands, the glowing faces,

the others, the weird and the worthless,

the sail that trembles as it cuts the winds