Ella

I got tired of begging her,
I got tired of telling her,
That without her,
I die of sorrow.

She didn't want to listen to me anymore,
If her lips parted,
It was to tell me,
I don't love you anymore.

I felt that my life,
Was lost in an abyss,
Deep and black,
Like my luck.

I wanted to find forgetfulness,
In the Jalisco style,
But those mariachis,
And that tequila,
Made me cry.