Pero no, no hay prisa; te duele el corazón al recordar su sonrisa, te duele con razón, pero no, no hay prisa.
Y vuelves a tu casa con la misma camisa, pero con manchas de ron.

dissabte, 18 de setembre del 2010


I don't tell anyone about the way you hold my hand
I don't tell anyone about the things that we have planned

Won't tell anybody how you turn my world around
I won't tell anyone how your voice is my favorite sound..

I don't need a parachute.
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