Return to the time I met you,
When the world ended in your garden,
I was the toughest cowboy in the Union
and you the saloon dancer.
They all surpassed you in virtue
but none gave what you.
Then you flew, someone told me
that you have made love your profession.
Since that winter ended,
I'm still the same, you know, in Madrid.
Things do not give much more of themselves.
One day I'll call you and we'll have dinner.
I hope you will make me a special price.
The rest of the band was lost.
The damn clock swallowed them;
They make pools, children, they go to the bar.
Your job is not worse than the others.
Since that winter ended,
since that friend vanished,
since you started to slide
through the tunnel
that leads where it grows
the darkest flower in the city.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)