Cerrado por derribo [English translation]

This balm can't cure scars,

This little rumba doesn't know how to charm,

This rosary of sad beads

Remains silent about more than it says,

But it tells the truth.

This shop of sheets that can't burn,

This phone without an answering machine,

I'll call her tomorrow, today's too late,

This cowardly way

Of not saying "no" to each other.

This "with you", this bitter "without you"

This hourglass from the sandbank,

This kissing strike, this slumber,

These long pants

For old Peter Pan.

This closet without any Zara panties,

The Soho tour from inside a red bus,

These eyes that don't measure, don't compare,

They don't forget about your face

They don't remember your cross.

Don't abuse my inspiration,

Don't accuse my heart,

So mistreated and worn out,

It's closed for demoliton.

Through my voice's wrinkles

Leaks desolation

Of knowing these are

The last verses I'll write you.

To say "goodbye" we both have got too many reasons.

This paya1that's so far away from his gypsy,

This port jail without a face-to-face,

This civil war, this one on one,

These moors and christians,

This Berlin wall.

This virus that neither dies nor kills us,

This amnesia on the palate's sky,

The dust's limousine through Manhattan,

Winter in Mar del Plata,

The Captain's verses.

This getting older without delicacy,

This back, wet with muscatel,

This valley of sadness factories,

This certainty foam,

This hive without honey.

This stain of blood and Indian ink,

This bathroom without rimmel or nembutal,

These bones that come back from the office

Inside of a trench coat

With stains of loneliness.

Don't abuse my inspiration,

Don't accuse my heart,

So mistreated and worn out,

It's closed for demoliton.

Through my voice's wrinkles

Leaks desolation

Of knowing these are

The last verses I'll write you.

To say "goodbye" we both have got too many reasons.

1. (woman who's not a gypsy)

• Artist:Joaquin Sabina
• Album:19 días y 500 noches