Por eso
Habías gritado cosas como astillas de madera. Eran cosas pequeñas, casi invisibles hasta que ejercías presión en la herida. Malditas astillas en mi corazón y mi mente. No me las pude sacar desde ese día, y vivieron allí hasta mi muerte.
Always the lover, never once loved
Dark eyes opened again to see ashes From the fire that the night before they started With intoxicating seduction, wine, and loneliness To compensate for their withered soul's emptiness She took her dress and put it on again Without saying a word, the memory walked away What could lust say to a complete stranger? For forging feelings for the heart meant danger He was another number to mark the whore She was another empty bottle on his floor The fire only left ashes and nothing more No spark between would ignite it nevermore Empty as the bottle they shared that night The woman and the man carried on with life Brokenhearted but their bodies were alive As long as the wine and pleasure pumped inside Back in the bar they sat next to each other But they were strangers since they didn't bother To say hello and revive the memories of desire For nothing was worth keeping inside their mind "What does it matter to know his name?"...
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