Martes
No quiero pensar si ya es martes
No se ni si voy a encontrarte
No puedo decirte, desearte
Sé que no va a ninguna parte
La imagen se vuelve hipnótica
Me embebo en tu semítica
No puedo reírme, hablarte
Sé que no va a ninguna parte
Ya vas a ver que al final sos vos el que no pudo verme
Creo que no me miras por miedo a reconocerte
Confusa y poco pragmática
La imagen se vuelve eterna
Con esta insistencia fanática
De estar buscándome en piel ajena
Entiendo que pierdo el tiempo
Me veo volada, etérea
Con este maneje, histérica
De ignorar lo que me resuena
Quiero, quiero, quiero imaginar
Que te quedas en pleno enero
Vuelo bajo, rozo el suelo, voy intentando descifrarme
Ya sabes, sabes que puedo
Sé mirarte y desnudarte el cuerpo entero
Ya no puedo distinguir si te mentís a vos
O me mentís a mi
Ya vas a ver que al final sos vos el que no pudo verme
Creo que no me miras por miedo a reconocerte
Tuesday
I don't want to think if it's already Tuesday
I don't even know if I'm going to find you
I can't tell you, wish you
I know it's not going anywhere
The image becomes hypnotic
I immerse myself in your Semitic
I can't laugh, talk to you
I know it's not going anywhere
You'll see in the end that it's you who couldn't see me
I think you don't look at me for fear of recognizing yourself
Confused and not very pragmatic
The image becomes eternal
With this fanatical insistence
Of looking for me in someone else's skin
I understand that I'm wasting time
I see myself flying, ethereal
With this handling, hysterical
Ignoring what resonates with me
I want, want, want to imagine
That you stay in the middle of January
Flying low, touching the ground, trying to decipher myself
You know, you know I can
I know how to look at you and undress your whole body
I can't tell anymore if you're lying to yourself
Or lying to me
You'll see in the end that it's you who couldn't see me
I think you don't look at me for fear of recognizing yourself