Rows of white.


Rows of white doves, on the wall.


As the breeze blows through the house.


It turned southeast, toward the 3rd floor window.


And it set them free from the single path....






Ojos marrones, ojos de cielo.

Si tan solo pudiera decirte, cuanto te quiero.


Ojos marrones, ojos llenos.

Si tan solo pudiera decirte, cuanto te espero.


Ojos marrones, ojos marrones.


Nunca te has preguntado: ¿Que esconden los corazones?





I would like to set you free, one prisoner helping another.


Would you like me to set you free?


Or would you like to stay here, my dear, and die in the darkness of our hearts?





Alas and anyway, I'm still handcuffed and blindfolded.