Placeta de La Charca

One lives for death
And dies for the road
Sadness dies
When joy sings

Glory to the bread that feeds me
And to the hands that write it
Half companion gargle
If this body no longer lives

Double fatigue, I pass
From climbing the hill so much
But blessed be my steps
When I reach its door

And in the Plaza of La Charca
Even my hairs bleed
My face turns
Like a Chinese in the Alhambra

And I'm crazy to get in
According to her mother, where I shouldn't
The tears on her face
For my girl, I drink

Don't pass by my door
I die of sorrow
And my memory stabs
With the braid of her hair

And on the B side of this story
I haven't climbed the hill again
I'm left only with her image
The memory and half a letter

Some of her hair on my clothes
And the name of that square
Which was my sanctuary
And will always be my Mecca

The truth turns black
Promises are made of mud
And the water that destroys them
Looks at us askew

This house is a prison
And I'm still trapped
For God's sake, someone come and take me out
I swear by my dead that I've tried

And I'm crazy to get in
According to her mom, where I shouldn't
The tears on her face
For my girl, I drink

So, don't pass by my door
I die of sorrow
And my memory stabs
With the braid of her hair

The doctors have told me
That your love for me costs me
Two years of illness
And three of recovery

I don't know if I have
A bad heart or a bad head
And once again I find myself on the ground
For stumbling over the same stone