Sync Different

ES:

estoy cansada y no lo entiendo
intento expresarlo con palabras
y al final salen bostezos

el miedo
de verme en un espejo
y disociar entre la imagen
y entre lo que en si proyecto

casi ni veo cine
desecho mis deseos
ya no hago lo que quiero
porque nunca tengo tiempo
y me lamento
y lo único pienso
es que me come la ciudad
y que me enreda el pelo el viento

pensé que amar sería suficiente
pero me siento sola y peleada con mi mente
no creo en mi talento como antes
no soy la que era antes
no soy suficiente
o soy demasiado grande
no soy nada fuerte
o es que tengo mucho aguante
no recuerdo nada lo que es sentirme bien
con el alma llena como un niño
que empieza a correr

pinto todo de color pastel para creer
que algún día la ternura me va a devolver
todo lo que el tedio y lo que el daño me han quitado
las horas de un sueño malgastado
pinto todo de color pastel para creer
que algún día la ternura me va a devolver
todo lo que el tedio y lo que el daño me han quitado
las horas de sueño que las noches me han robado
las horas de sueño que las noches me han robado
las horas de sueño que las noches me han robado

tal vez el camino equivocado
sea siempre el que me ha conquistado
ya tengo el enigma descifrado
el tiempo se pasa muy despacio

no busco na' de nadie
la suerte no me sobra pero siempre se comparte
escribo versos con punto y a parte
porque un punto y seguido implica motivos pa' seguir adelante
pero tranquilas que aquí mando yo
el agua limpia todo y últimamente está lloviendo un montón
no quiero sentir ni un remordimiento nunca más
la sensación que mas me pesa es la de recordar

algún día estaré bien lo puedo asegurar
sentirme a mí misma es suficiente pa' avanzar
igual que el pie que se siente a sí mismo al andar
igual que dos enamorados dentro de un maizal
escribo para mí y para reafirmar
que puede que algún día este cigarro se apague sin más
y no lo entenderás por no haber querido preguntar

ya no te sientas mal por mí me he cambiado de piel
a veces tu recuerdo incluso me sabe a miel
he estado imaginándome que es lo que quiero ser
y solo busco ser más gata que nunca y correr
y correr y correr y correr
y correr


pinto todo de color pastel para creer
que algún día la ternura me va a devolver
todo lo que el tedio y lo que el daño me han quitado
las horas de un sueño malgastado
pinto todo de color pastel para creer
que algún día la ternura me va a devolver
todo lo que el tedio y lo que el daño me han quitado
las horas de sueño que las noches me han robado



EN:

I'm tired and I don't understand
I try to put it into words
and in the end yawns come out

the fear
of seeing myself in a mirror
and dissociate between the image
and between what I project

I almost don't watch movies
I discard my desires
I no longer do what I want
because I never have time
and I lament
and the only thing I think
is that the city eats me up
and that the wind is tangling my hair

I thought that loving would be enough
but I feel lonely and at odds with my mind
I don't believe in my talent like before
I'm not what I used to be
I'm not enough
or I'm too big
I'm not strong at all
or is it that I have too much endurance
I don't remember what it's like to feel good
with a soul as full as a child
who starts to run

I paint everything in pastel colors to believe
that someday tenderness will return to me
all that boredom and hurt have taken away from me
the hours of a wasted dream
I paint everything in pastel colors to believe
that someday tenderness will return to me
all that boredom and hurt have taken away from me
the hours of sleep that the nights have stolen from me
the hours of sleep that the nights have stolen from me
the hours of sleep that the nights have stolen from me

maybe the wrong path
is always the one that has conquered me
I already have the enigma deciphered
time goes by very slowly

I'm not looking for anything from anyone
luck is not enough for me but I always share it
I write verses with a full stop, new paragraph
because a full stop, no new paragraph implies reasons to keep going on
but don't worry I'm in charge here
water cleans everything and lately it's been raining a lot
I don't want to feel a single remorse anymore
the feeling that weighs me down the most is the one of remembering

someday I'll be alright I can assure you
feeling myself is enough to move forward
just like the foot that feels itself when walking
just like two lovers inside a cornfield
I write for myself and to reaffirm
that maybe someday this cigarette will go out just like that
and you won't understand because you didn't want to ask

don't feel bad for me anymore I've changed my skin
sometimes your memory even tastes like honey to me
I've been imagining what I want to be
and I'm just trying to be more cat than ever and run
and run and run and run and run
and run

I paint everything in pastel colors to believe
that someday tenderness will return to me
all that boredom and hurt have taken away from me
the hours of a wasted dream
I paint everything in pastel colors to believe
that someday tenderness will return to me
all that boredom and hurt have taken away from me
the hours of sleep that the nights have stolen from me

There is a pond in front of the gate.
Water is flowing out
Birds are coming to bathe
Magpies are playing with lotus flowers

Girls are coming to wash the cloth.
Boys are threshing flour.
Take a look. Three times.
Working on the stone.
Take a look. Three times.
Working on the stone.

I don’t know how to settle my heart down
Best is to put it on the road so that it won’t be lost

Destiny is singing desperately
Turbulent like rain in the night

Before I wake up, the night is always so long
The moon is always by my bed
Remanding me I’m in another country
I look into the sky, these moving lights

Some invisible fingers, eternal doubts
Watching the clouds passing, listening to the world whispering
To say goodbye to you again
Too late to hesitate
After listening to all this you will finally meet

People blowing in the wind
With obsession and haste
Through the night lingering deeply
My lover is beneath the sky

When you have travelled the world, experienced feelings.
Your face has got dusty,when will you back?
Spring just passed,but winter will be coming.
After going through sorrow and joy, there is no youth

People blowing in the wind
With obsession and haste