![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZK09nr0qSjHTEEiCEqIhOV51QDHKl_O8thYxPT01adQxAxC0sMpq6wHFcK2-X4FYpak8bTBIH6Vo8TQzR-HQHe4k29gpYB5678-cD0Hu_8_-X5zFx19qkaxgsVm_1EjGmMV3LHJr_Qok/s400/5.jpg)
Return to a land called Paraiso,
a place where a dying river ends.
No birds there fly over Paraiso,
no space allows them to endure.
The smoke that screens the air,
the grass that's never there.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrrrsC5rJ976Wkaws4Efd-5Q96sEGGQh2areu0FmBYWOyN5c7__scK9VzcBqbC08e4s1YyrZlRrDkyZY8KHCGWAMuvP8K28U4mS8Es1_V8h5DyurGSi03OKYSF_ee0J8rOxvCpFW7TJmM/s400/3.jpg)
And if I could see a single bird, what a joy.
I try to write some words and create
a simple song to be heard
by the rest of the world.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg42qtoogWy7MjZnM3j61JF8Q51JeG0UtFOGUNUbnByQXHNsSYtuepUUmJRWCSSrZWbo-rM5fgThe_H4jn3IUZmYd3xZYTGxO6cBpbHcTct6RjgDW-ZR8SWPj0qlrFyTZ7SUqiQ4s071s/s400/4.jpg)
in a house made of cardboard floors and walls.
I learned to be free in Paraiso,
free to claim anything I see.
Matching rags for my clothes,
plastic bags for the cold.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikJGu_ALH6XGLgeIaz_G1EjF61_eQWDQynookCKR7wuhi7gqRh5y0LVB3Far4H8sc1Hsp5_6HRc64GeKUTABYlMZEYwXXBCTeSv9eJdyj72n50ReV8fyvRV_sXP09nuVd1TVaBMSMIVSE/s400/1.jpg)
And if empty cans were all I have, what a joy.
I never fight to take someone
else's coins and live with fear
like the rest of the boys.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNan6aivWVZDMr2uaOLLs2ZCe2qVysSQuCd-ZM88N9mx7E5cYoxaoQ_mIszH6jcJpeee0K3y8wyJDbjYlyesjxcQgWoxskZePdxx_FWnmGBcE-Bbd8J8j5Ud6SJ93v9qXbjdDWkokiFRk/s400/2.jpg)
Paraiso, help me make a stand.
Paraiso, take me by the hand
Paraiso, make the world understand
that if I could see a single bird, what a joy.
This tired and hungry land could expect
some truth and hope and respect
from the rest of the world
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