Guest

I expect you to be my guest
on this time calling Everest,
this trial of my interest,
the kill for those who call for the death.
But my arms are folded on your arms,
My head don't turn me out of your eyes
and I don't hope for losing you.
Your time it's just finishing soon
and I am not the creepy son
who will expect you to die.
I want you to be my guest
on my life that is running so fast.
You didn't see that much from me,
but the last time you went to see
I was lying with no look to show.
You just told me "grow up".
"You don't wanna lose your shine,
don't wanna stay like me falling into pieces
as some undisclosed issue,
not wanting to find any clue
and giving some shit advice for your son
that you barely know from the glow."
You dying now, my non-father at all.
I don't have any last wish for you,
don't need anything that is new.
I just expect you to live
and see what I turned for,
not thanks to you,
but for that advice on my dark room
that someone gave on the bar
and you just spelled to me
like a parrot.

And I repeat now as you die:
Be the guest on my life,
be the guest on disguise,
even with your sold soul,
even without your body.
I need my father now
to see that I am not turning into him.

The last breath came on the hospital room.
I am not crying, I am not crying.
Nothing come from my eyes.
But I take the last shot of tequila for your hopeless heart.
Goodbye, guest.