NOCHE DE HIPNOSIS

Y

TELEFONÍA MOVIL

I keep on feeling it,

this is not a dream for me...



Maybe they're not sleeping,

but thinking about the dirty friend of mine.

still, he's holding my hand.

Nothing to be afraid of…



And whit a sight he burns it dawn.

All my records, all my candies.

Happy, whit his bottle in a hand…



Bring the bats to me.

Let the hypnosis fled.

All the gay fans go ahead and write the last sonnet.

Because all the towers are like music sets.