Corrido

In the heat. I see you. Mirage. My Donex Mirage. The sun hangs low on the Donex plain. The air is thick with a golden flame. I walk these streets where the silence burns, And every shadow twists and turns. The steppe wind whispers ancient names through Broken windows and rusted frames. I close my eyes against the glare, And in the heat, I feel you there. Is it real? Is it you? Or just the summer playing tricks? In the haze, in the dust, I reach for What the sun has fixed. Mirage, shimmering on the road ahead. Mirage, are you living? Are you dead? Donex heat rising from the ground. In every wave, your face I found. Mirage, the city's breath holds you inside. Mirage, nowhere left to run or hide. Through the fire, through the haze, You're my Donex summer Haze. Oh. The roses bloomed on the boulevard before the World was torn and scarred. Now petals crack beneath my feet like memories of You in the heat. The cold black earth, the endless sky, They hold the truth, they never lie. And in this furnace of July, I see your Ghost, I don't know why. Is it real? Is it you? A trick of light, a fever dream. Through the smoke, through the flames, you're closer Now than you have ever been. Mirage, shimmering on the road ahead. Mirage, are you living? Are you dead? Donex heat rising from the ground. In every wave, your face I found. Mirage, the city's breath holds you inside. Mirage, nowhere left to run or hide. Through the fire, through the haze, You're my Donex summer Haze.