La Maté Porque Era Mia

The wood has caught me, I killed my girlfriend
Don't take pictures, I have a bloody body
I was a very decent guy, she was a whore
She won't use the bed anymore, now she sleeps in a tomb.

They took me to the dungeon and beat me up
They left my body broken, my brain doesn't work
And right now I don't understand anything, I only see journalists
Who give me some money to appear in their magazines.

What a nerve, what a nerve, so cheeky, so cheeky
I don't want your front page, scandalous journalist
I don't want you to write lies with her blood
I killed her because I loved her, I killed her because she was mine.