Un Trago de Amor

When Friday comes
and at night I am a singer
I become zamba
to see you at the station.

I go through Balcarce
holding back the emotion
because in every gathering
your temptation could be there.

When the red wine
dyes the cry of my voice
Salta wakes up
with guitar and bandoneon
and I keep going
without a sip of your love.

When Friday comes
I always end up at the station
to find out if your
unstable heart is mine.

Put out the fire for me
and let me be coal
so I can burn
on some other occasion.