Iglesias Enrique
Things About Love
Things About Love
What do I care about Calvary
if loving you is suffering,
or that you play with marked cards.
Lo What matters is the nights spent in you, even if in return you break my soul. What do I care about life? What's the point of living? Yes Am I missing your warm body?
What matters is touching you
and quenching this thirst,
that only your source quenches me.
That without you nothing has value,
and that is why I am yours,
slave and lord.
Things of love,
things of life:
You are my golden eagle,
I am your gazelle wound.
Things of your flesh,
things of your skin,
that drags me through the waves
like a paper boat.
Things of love,
things of life:
you make me pain
and you heal my wounds.
Things of your body,
things of my voice
preaching in the desert
of your absurd heart.
?Why do I want air
if I breathe from you?
?Why do I want light
or windows?
If it is enough for me feel tied to my skin,
and know that in your own way you love me.
What do I care about waiting for you
a thousand times more
if in the end you flood my time.
br/>What matters is to look at you
in silence and know
that perhaps without having you
I have you.
That without you nothing has value,
and that is why I am yours
slave and lord.
Things of love,
things of life:
You are my golden eagle,
I am your wounded gazelle.
Things of your flesh,
things of your skin,
that drags me through the waves
like a paper boat
Things of love,
things of life:
You make me pain
and you heal my wounds.
Things of your body,
things of my voice
preaching in the desert
of your absurd heart.
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Things of Love
What does the Calvary matter
if to love you is to suffer
Or that you play with marked cards
What matters are the nights
spent with you,
even if in return you tear my soul
What do I care about life?
What's the point of living
if I don't have your hot body?
What matters is to touch you
and to quench this thirst,
that only your fountain quenches for me.
Without you nothing has value,
and for that I'm yours,
slave and gentleman
Things of love
Things of life
You are my golden eagle
And I'm your injured gazelle
Things of your flesh
Things of your skin
That drags me through the waves
like a paper boat
Things of love,
Things of life
You cause me pain and
you heal my wounds
Things of your body,
things of my voice
preaching in the desert
about your absurd heart
Why do I want air
if I breathe of you?
Why do I want light
or windows
if to feel you on my skin is enough
and to know that you love me anyway
What does it matter to wait for you a
thousand and one more times
If in the end you eliminate the time
What matters is to see you
in silence and to know
that perhaps without having you
I have you.
That with out you nothing has value
and that's why I'm yours,
slave and gentleman
Things of love
Things of life
You are my golden eagle
And I 'm your injured gazelle
Things of your flesh
Things of your skin
That drags me through the waves
like a paper boat
Things of love,
Things of life
You cause me pain and you
heal my wounds
Things of your body,
things of my voice
preaching in the desert
about your absurd heart

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