letra de rearview - mauro meloni
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he sighs
holds his breath and sighs
like a hand that lets go a balloon
and like that balloon he is high on sadness
for what is never coming back
fires
like the fires we gazed at
in the winter surrounded by mountains
and like those flames he is burning for
for the warmth of those simple times
and for what is never coming back
the wind is heading south west in the mexico borderline
and they talk to old men who reminisce about their past
in the hot springs under the moonlight
of what is never coming back
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