my father was young when I begin to live the life of great people he could not worry about what they would eat he works in workshops of cars he lived your life as a war your parents left in the world to learn even fighting for everything that he most wanted was to have a good scene always felt that was their time to be pumping the truth of their situation and was subjected to humiliation your parents that even making it suffer 'the much loved' the much loved? your mother was Indian your father was the son of Polish he lived a lot. if married, had several buildings was a bit rich, pity which began to lose everything he tried to resist, but the enemy spoke highest and he was losing was directed to the bar, and could not return to the home by more than was already done had four sons among them the little Gustavo that are making this rhyme at the right time when it had no more to drink what they spend. began to realize that all you were saying goodbye. he stayed alone for a long time until it was reminded again. again had their children close. was happy, but on a night of rain the worst of stories my father had died. is the pain of the loss beating again. the day before his death, I was leaving When I ask:
There will give a kiss on her father. And answered: I don't know where it be. then I speak with him.
I don't imagine that would be the last time. the last time. the last time.
I didn’t expect, if I could return back to save even one dependent on alcohol he was my father.
my father, my father, my father, my father
I connect the fateful night:
Gustavo it be gonna ambulance and a son of bitch didn’t want to ride to your father.
I don’t know right, but that night I felt that he would leave us
but still feel in my soul that what happened had to happen and now he is in heaven with everyone who ever dreamed find still remember him every morning to get up not advance me push slope below. I’ll not forget it
before dying always had their stories for another he argues with you you always rewards in two he always liked to do for you then, whenever he could and conditions had wanted to help you. even knowing that you would treat him badly and always liked you
well, listen, and understand that history the names and the story is real seems unreal for their perfect life I don’t know if you have wept in the coffin of your father then understand what is suffering and be imagining him side to you you'll never see you, my father is my father