Brais Sánchez - Holes

Thousands of pretty birds on the hole
They are smiling, singing in the unknown
It’s day or night. It’s early or late
Flying in circles around my head,
trying to touch them, with my hand
Faces appearing over brown walls
I remember my mother
meanwhile my chest is getting hard

I’m not a good guy unless you like
holes
It began to drop stones from the top.
holes

The reason that I’m here is just one,
birds can fly,
hole like a womb,
I disappear and
I will return to the earth
like a bird.

I’m not a good guy unless you like
holes
It began to drop stones from the top.
holes

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