Cómo Te Diré
Sandro
How Will I Tell You
How will I tell you, that that flower
that was this love withered,
that the dream bird we had already flew away,
that the stimulating wine of desire is gone?
How will I tell you, that my eyes
have tired of crying,
that my arms have fallen asleep waiting,
crucified in the agony of your goodbye,
of your maybe, of your perhaps?
How will I tell you, that there is no longer firewood
in the tree of Faith,
that I tried on the shroud of memory,
that I already lay down in the tomb of the past?
How will I tell you, that the love I had I lost?
Oh, how will I tell you
that I no longer want to know about you?
that I no longer want to know about you...
How will I tell you, that there is no longer firewood
in the tree of Faith,
that I already lay down in the tomb of the past...
Oh, how will I tell you, that the love I had I lost?
Oh, how will I tell you that I no longer want to know about you?
