Rabo de Nube

If they told me to make a wish,
I would prefer a tail of cloud,
A whirlwind on the ground
And a great anger rising.
A sweeper of sorrows,
A downpour in revenge
So that when it clears up
It seems like our hope.

If they told me to make a wish,
I would prefer a tail of cloud,
That would take away the ugly
And leave us the cherub.
A sweeper of sorrows,
A downpour in revenge
So that when it clears up
It seems like our hope