Mirá tu, que la dicha de esta vida esta en lo poco, no en lo mucho.
En esas cosas pocas, por las cuales se da mucho.

I confess being too eager to find what I want,

Too eager to look with patient eyes, how is it that all things around me, come to be.

I wanted it to mean something,

For my time in here to not go to waste,

In a fashion of crazy sense,

I fought for my right to possess that, which I now realize, cannot be attained.

How mistaken can I be?

To take a full lap and be right again?

Like that one 3 am night, that I spend walking among thoughts,

Or that 4 am morning I ran away from tears and falseness.

Bring me back that childish face,

Cause it's the only one that knows how to be honest on every smile.

Piling up accomplishments as if they were rocks, digging our feet in the mud and feeling the crumbles of sand in between our toes, our eyes and minds get captivated by a butterfly. Looking for those four leave clovers, racing the sun as the clouds disperse, standing still to feel the wind blowing, letting the rain hit our faces. Never growing up to get bored of living, to get tired of seeing, to get used to being.

The little child that once walked on our shoes and wore our smiles, the simplicity of the little things that used to make us laugh, the amazements for a new lesson just learned. The simple things that used to make us want to be here and now. Living for the moment as it passed between our fingers, revolving on all the options we had to make that day the best one yet.

How is it that, the essence of childhood, the games and moments we once swore to never stop enjoying, slowly turned into mirrors that showed us how immature we apparently were. Convincing us of growing up and comparing each other, convincing us that competing with each other, putting labels on everything and assigning names left and right, was the way to go.

"Que se acerquen los niños, los amantes del ritmo. Que se queden sentados los intelectuales... Debo partirme en dos"

But what do I know about life,

Like everyone fighting for what they want,

I aspire to love and be loved back,

As everyone, I'm willing to die for what I want,

And I say that without a trace of knowledge for what's a must.

Foolish thoughts of the kid that I refuse to let die,

And tired thoughts of the grown up I force to stand,

For the many dreams of the one I'll always defend.

For what is left,

I know that being the way I am until the end,

is all I have to save.

And to be right,

Is not really worth the fight.