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Trenes Pequeños

Purple Love

Little Trains

And it started in the garden
Where the evening moon gnomes glow
After chasing foreign races
That were all that he could know

He'd see them race out from the gutter
To the magic princess land
And he'd follow them back to their town
And grab them by the hand

They pull him into forest fires
Of songs and dance and love
And he felt right in their company
That he was unworthy of

And after leaving them one perfect day
And going to his home
He missed the love and songs and magic
So he'd make them in his home

He'd close his eyes and wake up screaming
They weren't his gnomely friends at all
The projector in his higher brain
Was not what he could recall

They sang him songs of death and sadness
And tied him to the ground
On his own he'd sit, on a park bench
He was never homeward bound

He felt a hand upon his shoulder
It was a man who had been near
He said son, i'll show you round the world
If you wait right here for me

So he took the man as virtuous
And let him show him round
Showed him sights and fights and all the lights
Of a city broken down

Son, heres the life you could have lived
With the broken windows, and shady streets
Would you rather live, in your own mind
Than sleep on the concrete?

Trenes Pequeños

Y comenzó en el jardín
Donde los gnomos de la luna vespertina brillan
Después de perseguir razas extranjeras
Que eran todo lo que podía conocer

Los veía correr desde la alcantarilla
Hacia la tierra de la princesa mágica
Y los seguía de vuelta a su pueblo
Y los agarraba de la mano

Lo arrastraban a incendios forestales
De canciones, baile y amor
Y se sentía bien en su compañía
Que él consideraba indigna

Y después de dejarlos un día perfecto
Y regresar a su hogar
Extrañaba el amor, las canciones y la magia
Así que las recreaba en su hogar

Cerraba los ojos y se despertaba gritando
Ellos no eran sus amigos gnomos en absoluto
El proyector en su cerebro superior
No era lo que podía recordar

Le cantaban canciones de muerte y tristeza
Y lo ataban al suelo
Solo se sentaba, en un banco del parque
Nunca regresaba a casa

Sintió una mano en su hombro
Era un hombre que había estado cerca
Dijo hijo, te mostraré el mundo
Si esperas aquí por mí

Así que tomó al hombre como virtuoso
Y lo dejó mostrarle el mundo
Le mostró vistas, peleas y todas las luces
De una ciudad en decadencia

Hijo, aquí está la vida que podrías haber vivido
Con las ventanas rotas y calles sombrías
¿Preferirías vivir en tu propia mente
Que dormir en el concreto?

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