20 de Noviembre

Left the cigarette on my bed,
An almanac behind,
I ask you not to yell so much,
My heart can't take it anymore.

I think it's November 20th,
Of the year '93.

And you're still hurt,
On your face it shows.
The dim lights,
You have stained eyes.

Come on, clean your face,
Get presentable.

And fix your tie,
And let's go for a walk.

There's no one to cover us now,
And things are like that.

Under this sky roof,
It's not worth getting hurt,
At least tonight I want to see her again.

And fix your tie,
And let's go for a walk.

Stop drinking that wine,
Let's drink this one that's much better.