Alisa Amador: "Extraño" & "Milonga Accidental"

Enable subtitles [CC] for English translation of lyrics. https://www.alisaamador.com |   / alisaamador   See behind the scenes and catch sneak previews: https://bit.ly/SaltLickSessionsIG. https://bit.ly/SaltLickSessionsTikTok "Extraño" and "Milonga Accidental" by Alisa Amador Producers: Alisa Amador, Roger Brown, Beane, Liza Levy, Jennifer Roe Director/Post Production Editor: Joseph T. Spence Audio Engineer: Dan Cardinal Mixing Engineer: Dan Cardinal Videographers: Joseph T. Spence, Nick Oski Theme music: Julia Gartha Filmed at Dimension Sound Studios in Boston, MA on July 18, 2022 Salt Lick Sessions is a video series produced by the Salt Lick Incubator, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit artist development organization supporting musicians in their creative journeys. To learn more, recommend an artist, or apply to appear on a session please visit: https://www.saltlickincubator.org. LYRICS: "Extraño" Yo extraño las palabras que yo antes conocía Con las cuales construía pequeñitas poesías Cuan extraño que es pensar que nunca pertenecías Que el hogar de tu memoria es un espacio que alquilas ~~~~ Yo extraño Yo extraño los colores que yo antes percibía Y los cuadros que pintaba por detrás de mis pupilas Cuan extraño es recordar lo que tal vez nunca existía Que el tejido imaginario es de un hilo que termina ___________________ "Milonga accidental" Cuando miro afuera, cuando miro adentro Cuando afuera otra vez De la periferia, hasta el mero centro Siempre soy testigo y juez Cuando sabré descifrar mi razón? Cuando sentiré mi hogar en mi voz? Cuando miro el agua, cuando miro el cielo Cuando miro el agua otra vez De lo más profundo, a este momento Quiero ser el ave y el pez Cuando sabré descifrar mi razón? Cuando sentiré mi hogar en mi voz? Translations (provided by Alisa Amador) "Extraño" I miss the words that I used to know with which I wrote little poems How strange it is to think that you never belonged that the house of your memory is a rented space I miss I miss the colors I used to perceive and the paintings that I painted on the backs of my eyelids How strange it is to remember what perhaps, never existed the the tapestry of your imagination is made of a thread that ends. "Milonga Accidental" When I look outside, when I look inside When I look outside again From the periphery, to the very center I am always the witness and the judge. When will I know how to decipher my purpose? When will I feel at home in my voice? When I look to the water, when I look to the sky When I look to the water again From the deepest place, to this very moment I want to be the bird and the fish When will I know how to decipher my purpose? When will I feel at home in my voice? In my voice