Deja que te vea. Cómo pasa el tiempo.
Somos el lamento de una vieja herida.
He gastado días persiguiendo el viento,
he perdido el mapa, he dado la vida.
He robado pan de la mesa del rico,
me volví un experto en perder solitarios.
Llega tu recuerdo y me hago el distraído.
Bebo en tu memoria y me estrello en tus labios.
La vida es eterna en cinco minutos;
los que nos tomaba quitarnos la ropa.
Lo que el amor tarda en descubrir mis trucos
o tu despedida en borrarme la boca.
No es verdad que el tiempo nos lo cura todo,
y no está el mañana ni el ayer escrito.
Yo sigo esperando que nieve en agosto.
De mayor yo siempre quise ser un niño.
Y ven, deja que el viento nos lleve,
que nuestras citas esperen,
hoy les toca compartir.
Y ven, no existe el tiempo perdido.
Cada minuto vacío siempre está lleno de ti.
En los andenes, en cada espera,
he dibujado una luna llena.
Y en el vagón fui un lobo herido
soñando el viaje que nunca hicimos.
En los atascos grité tu nombre,
cantando sobrevolé los coches
hacia las playas en que te nombran,
y de tu mano salté las olas.
Deja que te vea, tanto que contarte.
Es que a mí el olvido no se me da bien.
Aún siento la urgencia de aquel estudiante
que en la barricada no aprendió a perder.
Aún no he escrito el himno de esta despedida,
lloro como un tonto con cualquier anuncio.
Pierdo los papeles con una sonrisa
y en la fiesta ajena aún me marcho el último.
Y ven, deja que el viento nos lleve,
que nuestras citas esperen,
hoy les toca compartir.
Y ven, no existe el tiempo perdido.
Cada minuto vacío siempre está lleno de ti.
Mirando el techo de madrugada
fibril insomio, fui cosmonauta
mil años luz en tu galaxia
trepé la hiedra, babí tu sabia
En cada tasco grité tu nombre
las horas muertas en ascensores
fueron parduin hasta tu nuve
del cumpleaños que no te tuve.
En los andenes, en cada espera,
he dibujado una luna llena.
Y en el vagón fui un lobo herido
soñando el viaje que nunca hicimos.
En los atascos grité tu nombre,
cantando sobrevolé los coches
hacia las playas en que te nombran,
y de tu mano salté las olas.
Ismael Serrano (born March 9, 1974) is a Spanish singer-songwriter and guitarist popular in the Hispanic world and Latin America. Known for his insightful and often politically charged lyrics and eclectic musical influences, Serrano blends genres ranging from folk to flamenco, rock, and Latin music. His musical career began in the 1990s with his debut album "El chico de la última fila", which quickly propelled him to success. Among his most representative songs are "La chica del pelo rojo", "No me importa nada", and "Te quiero más que a nadie". Serrano is considered one of the most important Spanish artists of his generation, appreciated for his authenticity, the depth of his lyrics, and his musical versatility.
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My favorite group when I was just a teenager were the Fugees, thanks to them a certain curiosity about english language was born in me. I wanted to know and understand the lyrics of their songs, it wasn't enough for me to be carried away exclusively by their beautiful music.
Sweden and the United States are two countries far from each other, thousands of kilometers separate them, the language, culinary and sporting traditions, I don't feel so categorical about the landscapes, not knowing all of America there may be states that have the same reliefs of the country of northern Europe, but on one thing I am sure
It has been talked about for almost 3 years, rumored and it is hoped that sooner or later they will arrive at a collaboration, and now we are satisfied: the Catalan singer Rosalia and the American musician Oneohtrix finally announce the publication of a piece together!
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