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.

dimecres, 8 de setembre del 2010

Tell me where am I supposed to go.
And who amb I supposed to belive.
If only you knew what I knew.
Then you could see just what I see.
So I grab my bags and go, as far away as I can go.
Cause evertything ain't what I used to know.
And I try to hide, but I just can't hide no more,
there's nothing worse than feeling like a ghost.