In The Distance Someone Is Singing.

Under Your Skin The Moon Is Alive.

I Don't Know Who It Is Who Lives Or Dies, Who Rests Or Wakes, But It Is Your Heart That Distributes All The Graces Of The Daybreak In My Breast.

Give Me Your Hand Out Of The Depths Sown By Your Sorrows.

My Duty Moves Along With My Song: I Am I Am Not: That Is My Destiny. I Exist Not If I Do Not Attend To The Pain Of Those Who Suffer: They Are My Pains. For I Cannot Be Without Existing For All, For All Who Are Silent And Oppressed, I Come From The People And I Sing For Them: My Poetry Is Song And Punnishment.

Conspirators In Pajamas Who Exchange Deep Kisses For Passwords.