Lyrics of 'Aquellas Pequeñas Cosas (part. Joan Manuel Serrat)' by Mercedes Sosa

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Uno se cree
Que las mató el tiempo y la ausencia
Pero su tren
Vendió boleto de ida y vuelta

Son aquellas pequeñas cosas
Que nos dejó un tiempo de rosas
En un rincón, en un papel
O en un cajón

Como un ladrón
Te acechan detrás de la puerta
Te tienen tan a su merced
Como hojas muertas

Que el viento arrastra allá o aquí
Que te sonríen tristes y
Nos hacen que
Lloremos cuando nadie nos ve (nadie nos ve)

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