She is called Macarena,
and she has a sentence to fulfill,
She cuts her hair and she is sad,
time is running out,
In reality she was the godmother,
and she has another garden,
She confused nine moons and the child did not see her coming,
She escapes and she is sad,
they can no longer live together,
The child fulfilled his sentence,
a letter he learned to write,
In the classroom's classroom,
the columns are diagonal,
They were in defense of a star and a love of hormones,
Like a,
to live.

It's the time we have left,
to learn to exist.

The autumn that judges us,
will not be able to love again.

It's the wind in the tide,
now I am a beat-up.

I am in the Ukeboz and Las Femias,
it's