Life will go on, and people will come out to set up their clothing stalls on the sidewalk on Main Street, but you won't see them anymore.
And someone will sharpen his tool to work; a calf will take the grass on the ground to eat; and you will no longer see them.
The red paint on the street corner will wear off and the songs you loved so much by Alberto Vazquez will reach a million plays somewhere. While someone knocks on the white door and counts the steps to get to where you are. But none of this will make sense because you're gone.
And even if nothing makes sense in the earthly world, I will close my eyes, I will go to the land of timelessness, there where you are.
I will see you sitting at the table with the women in my life who are no longer with me. You are free and rest in peace.
