Marchita El Alma

Withered soul, dead the feeling
Wilted face, wounded heart
Wandering aimlessly on an uncertain path
No hope left, no hope
To reach their love

I wanted to talk to them, and tell them a lot, a lot
And when I tried, my lips fell silent
I said nothing, because I couldn't
Because they belonged to another, oh, they belonged to another
Their heart already

Wandering aimlessly on an uncertain path
No hope left, no hope
To reach their love

I wanted to talk to them, and tell them...