Those little things
Music and lyrics by Joan Manuel Serrat
One would think they got killed by time and absence,
but their train sold a two-way ticket
they are those little things, left for us by time full of roses,
hidden in a corner, in a drawer, in a piece of paper.
They hide, like thieves, behind our door,
they have us at their mercy like dead leaves,
blown by the wind, here and there,
and they smile at us sadly,
making us cry when nobody is looking.