Tu Rostro
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Your Face
Come, I want to bite your skin
Caress your voice
And be the dirt under your hands
I know I'm not a heartthrob
But I can give you
Poorly inflated red balloons
I know I stole from your chest
A heart on paper
Painted with charcoal
It's your face that traps me
It's your eyes that kill me
Your smile made of tin
And your scent that ties me to you
Your gaze trapped me
And forced me to drink
Songs of smoke and liquor
And I asked a very tired old man
Who carried her by the hand
If that is our future
Or a pledge of the past
I know I stole from your chest
A heart on paper
Painted with charcoal
It's your face that traps me
It's your eyes that kill me
Your smile made of tin
And your scent that ties me to you
