Sobre la ciudad del cierzo caen moléculas formadas por un átomo de oxígeno y dos de hidrógeno. Una sustancia líquida, inodora, insípida e incolora, con propiedades como la melancolía, la apatía y la nostalgia.
Es decir, llueve al otro lado de mi ventana.
Everything you think you know baby
Is wrong
And everything you think you had baby
Is goneCertain things turn ugly when you think too hard
And nagging little thoughts change into things you can’t turn off
Everything you think you know baby
Is wrongIt’s all over but the crying
Fade to black I’m sick of trying
Took too much and now I’m done
It’s all over but the cryingDo you really think I’m made of stone baby?
C’mon!
That we only love the things we own?
Baby you’re wrong
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