Macho Chaparron

Heavy rain downpour, they are flooding the world,
and I on this carpet missing my last train.
boxing doubts, doubting necks, clouds chewing the sun.
the afternoon at a standstill, and me in this mess of wanting without wanting,
of weak kisses and stale kisses,
and tricks that no longer work even in reverse,
the stick of a goodbye and the accounts of four plus two,
that not even by fucking give us six.
They sent me to the goal and I can't go back.
They sent me to the goal and I can't go back.
Back, no, no, I don't know how to go back, no.
Heavy rain downpour, memories dripping
and me in this fever of thorns that don't bleed,
tying loose ends, falling low.
And maybe tomorrow I'll wind up my heart again.
But in the meantime, I only have,
this storm that tackles me, and doesn't let go, and doesn't let go.

And the tricks that no longer work even in reverse, the birth of a goodbye.
And the accounts of four plus two that not even by fucking give us six.
They sent me to the goal and I can't go back.
They sent me to the goal and I can't go back.
Back, no, no, I don't know how to go back, no.
They sent me to the goal and I can't go back.
They sent me to the goal and I can't go back.
Back, no, no, I don't know how to go back, no.

I don't know how to go back. I don't know how to go back.
Don't make me sick anymore.