Gitana

Meditating from La Guaira to Madrid, I don't remember how long I've been standing here. Looking for a brunette who stole my dreams and her skin duels fantasies.

It's been over a year since I lost track of her, my friends say I'm a masochist. She has a look that can't be denied, I want to make her my woman.

For the love of a gypsy, my heart goes out the window. For the love of that brunette with olive eyes, full moon flower.

And to think I never imagined it, I'll travel around the world to see her again, from Barcelona to Andalusia, for that brunette of mine.

I thought I was skilled and experienced, but I'm nothing more than a foolish lover. I let myself get tangled up in that Moorish love, I gave her my wishes one by one.

For the love of a gypsy, my heart goes out the window. For the love of that brunette with olive eyes, full moon flower.

I don't know what I'm going to do if I don't see her again, if I can't have her in my arms once more. I got lost in the desert because of her flamenco hair, with her body thirsty for windless sand, of those passions that I could only discover with her, for the love of a gypsy.

I don't know what I'm going to do if I don't see her again, if I can't have her in my arms once more, in my arms once more, in my arms, once more.

For the love of a gypsy, my heart goes out the window. For the love of that brunette with olive eyes, full moon flower.