I hear the voices
Echo from the sea
Dreaming in cuban
On the subway
The giant buildings and the snow
Are killing me
A new york winter full of sundays
I don't need this
Que pasa hijo
You look so pale and sad
Que te hesist a tu pelo
En mi cuba
Quiero morir
Esto no es
Una vida
En mi cuba
Quiero morir
O por lo meno
Hialeah
I don't need this
