Amsterdam [English translation]

A chair without hurry,

sleepless waves are flying,

a map sheet and a couple of things I've fished,

like a key that opens nowhere.

Postcards, from you don't know where, nailed

to the oldest piece of wood in the world.

We are,

We are passengers on board

inside the bottle of the message

where the current takes us

that not even someone's hand calculated

when they threw us to the sea.

A window was lit up,

upon the coast of Babel,

and I found myself floating through Amsterdam

looking at the port with Jacques Brel.

The rest was a reflection in the water

of the building that have been shipwrecked,

and one of the sailors looking for the key

that he dropped one day and he never found again...

We are,

We are passengers on board

inside the bottle of the message

where the wind draws us

so invisible we have confused it with destiny.

We are,

We are passengers on board

inside the bottle of the message

where the current takes us

that not even someone's hand calculated

when they threw us to the sea.

• Artist:Blaumut
• Album:El primer arbre del bosc