The avenues of this town
They've been haunted
By the ghosts,
Of our memories

And even though a decade has gone by
Since the day of our tragedy
I can still see us in the sidewalks downtown,
Drinking cheap whisky and believing in our love

I sit in that same spot
The one which staged our beautiful beginning
And I cry
For life wasn't supposed to be like this

I curse the wind,
I curse the sky,
I curse the land and, most of all,
I curse you

For all the streets I should have been walked by,
Holding your hand
But I crawled
All alone with my pain

So I go to the shelter of your epitaph,
Lay my back on it,
And again, I cry
For life wasn't supposed to be like this

And I remember the hours
The impossible hours
It took me to write it
To put in words who have you been

How could I
In such a pain, in such a greeve,
Put in thirty miserable words
Who woke up in me the universe?

How could I?

Soon or later, I've founded the answer
So I wrote you
In that clumsy sheet of paper
I wrote you

"He was made up from such poetry,
And dust from so many stars,
And the most extraordinary dreams,
That it would take a Bukowski and a Newton
To decode his exorbitance
And put it in words."

We've not had much, honey
And if only you knew
How much I wanted you here
To face with me this life so hard

To deal with this town
Where the avenues are haunted
By ghosts
Of memories

So I go back to that same spot
The one who staged our beginning
I sit here and I wonder
For here it lie our dreams