Look, Monica, I'm fed up
of your damn indecision
I live on the edge of heart attack
Tuesday yes, Wednesday no,
Thursday who knows;
Because of you I burned my ships and something else,
I sold my soul to Satan
in exchange for the key to your privacy.
Look, Monica, keep in mind,
if the occasion arises,
that on the border of the thirty
burn less love
but still warm;
At night never close your balcony,
maybe a thief will be encouraged
to loosen your heart a little.
Do not tell me maybe, maybe, maybe, tomorrow,
that from waiting for you so much they are going to leave me gray,
Do not let me be thirsty ... do not be inhuman.
Leave, Monica and that story
of my lie and your truth,
Do not tell me your memories
I'm not going to buy them,
enough of drinks
and of words turned inside out,
Do not you see that it's already dawn?
Go on, take off your clothes once.
Do not tell me maybe, maybe, maybe, tomorrow,
that from waiting for you so much they are going to leave me gray,
Do not let me be thirsty ... do not be inhuman.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)