I ran, looking for a love that knew fill my heart with tendrness.
I ran against a time that marked on my skin its slow passage.
I was as racing against myself, trampling my past mistakes, hoping to return to cultivate only good things.
He fled from the walls of paper mache of a world that was not how i wanted to.
And I stopped, on your lips, where nothing was wrong and I repaired to me in your arms, that smell of freedom.