La ruta, hilo conductor entre espacios emocionales y tiempo(s)
entre hitos de ser y aquello que derrama el cielo
entre truenos, relámpagos, amores juveniles y un riachuelo
La ruta; los ojos al frente mirando el pasado
Por aquello que fue solo un momento
por la eternidad en la que se baña un sentimiento
Onix y Ros, la ruta y la búsqueda,
Veranos y otoños, la lluvia y el fuego
Lyrics:
White truck! I gotta make some room
Eyes in front until I hit the dunes
Turning left there is no sign of you
A Sunday void a sanctuary of moods
And in the horizons there are cracking thunders
I jump in the water in elusive summerset
she stays in the pool and I am looking under her
The clicking of falling drops brings the warmest rain
White truck! and I arrive at noon
I smell the humid grass, I drink one in two
Light head, and our skin is red
A touch of darkness to a fire lead
And in the horizons there are cracking thunders
I jump in the feeling this should be forever meant
We stay for a minute holding hands as summer sets
The clicking of falling drops brings us the warmest rain
Drive mode, a red line, a passing road, a borrowed peak of life
Fast lane, your name is back, a counter-clock: I guess we miss the lag
And in the horizons there are cracking thunders
I jump in the water in elusive summerset
We stay for a minute holding hands as summer sets
The clicking of falling drops brings us the warmest rain
