Trolebús - Urbanicidio

Séptimo Piso

Abrir la persiana del séptimo piso
El sol se ha metido a tu casa
A desayunar.

Hay poca comida y pocos minutos
La ruta al trabajo te espera
En un eje vial.

Rueda tu alma por el boulevard
Y aunque pide parada no puede bajar
A mirar el infinito
Mas allá.

Cuantos papeles te dan bienvenida
Tu vida se archiva en pedazos
De ciudad.

Andas errante por calles dormidas
Tus sueños se avivan en trazos
De publicidad.

Te has quedado sólo
Encadenado a un escritorio
Y no sabes como
Encontrar tu territorio.

Cerrar la persiana del séptimo piso
El sol ha caído y derrama
Oscuridad.

Credits
Writer(s): Jose Luis Campos Garcia
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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