I have a Sunday on standby, in case some Monday gets you down
And in my wallet an amphora that smells like you
I have front row tickets, to see you wake up in the morning ±anas
I have the firm conviction that if you are here I will consolidate myself
And the suspicion that you don't even suspect how much I love you
I have your photo placed in my pupil
And with your voice the stirrup, the anvil and the hammer dance
I have laughter, I have cries, I have a thermostat
That turns me on when you are
And that turns me on turn off if you leave
So as not to die of nostalgia
Goodbye melancholy
Thank you for the company
But there is no more here place for you
Goodbye melancholy
I thank you for the poetry
That between verses today you let me confess to this woman
May I win the lottery when vi
Today I hang my dreams in the piercing of your navel
While melancholy observes and witnesses
She wants to be sure, a little for you
A little for more, a little out of jealousy
Goodbye melancholy
Thank you for the company
But here there is no more room for you
Goodbye melancholy
I thank you for the poetry
That between verses today you let me confess to this woman
That I won the lottery when I saw her
I have sea water in the bathtub, and mountain air in my bed
I have May sun in the refrigerator, and April flowers on the stairs
I have a full room in spring, and a kiss waiting in the trench
A vase that cries when it waits, and I have you wherever I want
And I have you wherever I want

ENVIAR CORRECCIONES