She arrives at eight o'clock, no one is there yet
She double-locks her dressing room, and there she is
Who, with a tender air, smiles her mirror
She's been doing this every night for almost thirty years
Then she takes his face with both hands
Caress it as if it were no longer hers
Then she takes the makeup and pencils
Carefully draws a smile
The false eyelashes, the long dress black
The satin shoes, the silver wig
Now the singer is twenty years old
Then she comes in, spreading her arms
As if she were coming in to the first time
Then she sings with that voice
As the newspapers say that cannot be replaced
She smiles with that smile
Who only belongs to her and who we love so much
Now the singer is twenty years old
Then she goes out, exhausted, her makeup melts
br/>She responds with a sad look to two or three questions
She dresses in civilian clothes, she gets into the car
Then falls asleep on the On the shoulder of her impresario
She sees the Alcazar and Deauville again
At the time when men were still docile
She sees me again Soul of this little singer
Sacrificing her salary to give her flowers
She sees those transfixed lovers again
Who threw diamond necklaces into her bed
Now, the singer is twenty years old
br/>Then she comes in, spreading her arms
As if she was coming in for the first time
Then she sings with that voice
As they say the newspapers that cannot be replaced
She smiles with that smile
Which only belongs to her and which we love so much
Now the singer is twenty years
Then she comes in, spreading her arms
As if she was coming home for the last time
She complains in that voice
As the newspapers will say that we will not replace
Then she cries with that smile
Which only belongs to her and which we loved so much
Now, the singer at twenty years old

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