the form of the sun and my figure are broken
a tether that shouldn’t be
where do cowards go?
lung frame, pain as a helmet
i try to bring them down but i just can’t
before them i’m exposed
the form of my lungs has turned simpler and rougher
a saddle to ride that horse where the cowards go
farewell
your deeds worked, then
i tried to kill them all but they just bled
before them i’m exposed
---------------------------------------
'pulir'
la forma del sol y mi figura están rotas
una cuerda que no debería serlo
¿a dónde van los cobardes?
armadura de pulmón, el dolor como casco
intento derribarlos pero no puedo
ante ellos estoy expuesto
la forma de mis pulmones se ha vuelto más simple y áspera
una silla de montar para cabalgar ese caballo
hacia donde los cobardes van
¡adiós!
vuestras hazañas funcionaron, entonces
intenté matarlos pero sólo sangraron
ante ellos estoy expuesto
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