Bujias Para El Dolor

Losing trains under the rain
Only those who don't know me are waiting for me
I blindly search for the next shelter
I no longer believe in happiness ads

All the questions won't stop
Even if they are the same and from the same platform

Memory is a magician's hat
The south is my north, I've said that before

Virgin of Carmen, patron saint of the sea
Lost paradise somewhere
Smuggling love in alcaraván
Attic of childhood and spark plugs for pain

Someone loves me, someone destroys me
Windows or mirrors, broken or open
I was born with Gilles de la Tourette syndrome
The rest is the cierzo and the east wind

Dark waves that prevent your return
The defenseless need for conjugal love
Actually, I prefer it to be others
Who have fun and enjoy themselves