I got tired of begging her
I got tired of telling her
that without her
I would die of grief.
She no longer wanted to listen to me
if her lips opened
it was to tell me, I don't love you anymore,
I felt that my life
was lost in a vision
deep and black
like my luck,
Maybe I could erase oblivion
Jalisco style
but those mariachis
and that tequila
made me cry,
I got tired of begging him
with tears in my eyes
I raised my glass and toasted it
I couldn't despise myself
it was the last toast
of a bohemian to a queen.
The mariachis fell silent
from my weak hand
My glass fell without realizing it
She wanted to stay
when she saw my sadness
but it was already written
that that night she would lose her love.

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