Madness of Cuba
In this bed,
In this room,
In this universe, time is slow, dreams are true.
In my head,
In my confusion,
In the arms of this man who will never be mine.
It doesn't disturb me to be your Muchacha.
Not your wife,
Not your child,
Not that feeling of responsibility.
I love your eyes,
I love your smile,
I love the artificial lights of the city.
I am your Muchacha,
I am your true drama,
Until death comes ringing
And on the balcony
Birds singing.
écrit par Isabelle Le Roux
