Rubia Como La Monroe

Hey! Let's see how the day has treated us
You about to burn and I with my melancholy
I'll take the train back to your saliva
And we will do the same as yesterday, but you are on top

Well, we may not have the pain solved
Okay, I tell you, what does it matter if I find you in the end?
Blonde like Monroe, warm like wood
Beautiful as art deco, bad as a dream

For the crazy poison that you are, I have no antidote
I see you and, typically, I have trouble speaking
I'm not a Jack Daniel's fan and I'm not athletic
But I can love you even with panic

I see you here with killer green eyes
And with a soap belly
For your tongue that spies on me I'm going to be James Bond

Blonde like Monroe, warm like wood
Beautiful as art deco, bad as a dream

For the crazy poison that you are, I have no antidote
I see you and, typically, I have trouble speaking
I'm not a Jack Daniel's fan and I'm not athletic
But I can love you even with panic

I who thaw you, who insult you
I bring you a collapsed hyacinth
I approve of your melancholy
I who summon you to the salts of heaven
I who dare you: What?
When are you going to spit on me, hero?
When are you going to grind me down in the rain again?
When?
When are you going to call me a bird and a whore?
When are you going to curse me?
When?

Look how time flies
And not even the elves appear to me anymore
And I don't understand umbrellas anymore
And I'm becoming more and more sincere
If you delay
If you get a knot and can't find me

You're going to go blind
If you don't come back now: Infamous, imbecile, clumsy, idiot
I'm going to call myself never
But never mind, kiss me
Again and again to find myself
Wrap yourself around my waist, come back
Be my animal, move me

We will sleep like murderers who are saved
Tied by an incomparable flower
The next morning when the rooster crows
We will be nature
And I will look like your children in bed
Come back, come back

Strike me with lightning
Make me another wrench
We'll put the record player on forever
Come with your unfaithful neck, with your stone
Swear to me that I'm not dead
I promise you, my love, the apple

For the crazy poison that you are, I have no antidote
I see you and, typically, I have trouble speaking
I'm not a Jack Daniel's fan and I'm not athletic
But I can love you even with panic