Motorseries #07 (part. Recycled J)

Twenty missed calls (oh, oh-oh)
The phone turned off, she dancing on top of me
(She-she) bites her lip and looks at me (looks at me)
I'll never forget it in my life

That night in your car, devouring each other
It seemed like a dream until it ended
She never had an owner, no one taught her
To tie up her hair and take action

Flies like a butterfly, stings like a dagger
There are those who ask for permission, she asks for forgiveness
Her lips red with passion and her high-heeled pointed shoe
Carries a sin in her bag kept and a lock for your heart

Go up, go up!

Twenty missed calls
Days that seem like years, years that seem like lives
(Yes-yes) I always hate goodbyes
Yes-yes, (yours) yours I'll never forget
All the times I promised you, that it would be forever and I always left
How the nonsense I said sometimes sting me and I never felt

Fly-fly like a butterfly on Fridays in Alerón
She has charm and charisma, almost the same as me
She's one in a million and that's a fact, are we or not?
She lives fast, fast and tears my shirt like Camarón

Go up, go up!

Like a butterfly, you, me
I went from flower to flower
Like a butterfly, you, me
Our love flew
Like a butterfly, you, me
I went from flower to flower
Like a butterfly, you, me
Our love flew

Like a dadd—
Like a dadd—