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I'm tired of you not even caressing me with your eyes
Of being a third pillow in your bed
Of seeing that the future is becoming thin
Of knowing that life is nothing more than for a while
And feeling like a woman because I wash the dishes
I'm tired of saying I love you and seeing that you're asleep
Of making you a special dinner and seeing that you're gone
From being a housewife and nothing more
With the difference of always and never
And even feeling happy when you leave
Behind my window
I see the morning go by ±ana waiting for the night
I uncover my neckline
So that it provokes your failed anxiety
Behind my window
I see destiny passing by disguised as a murderer
Mocking loudly at this ungrateful concubine
Behind my window
Life is going away, with you but alone
I'm tired of being like any other shirt for you
That gets ironed and it wrinkles to the rhythm of your laughter
Of being just another object in your house
Like a cloth, a chair, a simple cup
And you don't even know what's happening
Behind my window
I see the morning go by waiting for the night
I uncover my neckline
So that it provokes your failed anxiety
Behind my window
I see destiny passing by disguised as a murderer
Mocking loudly at this ungrateful concubine
Behind my window
Life is going away, with you but alone, alone
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