Señorita
Ricardo Arjona
Miss
Her breasts like the tip of a rock
They strolled around the bar serving drinks
Dressed as if she didn't want clothes
And more tricks on her skin than any magician
She had several names to forget
The name they gave her at home
She had an ideal past to not remember
And a reputation for following through on threats
On Tuesdays she was called Margarita
By Friday nights she was Lola
I always called her miss
You don't have to be so alone
I remember the Thursday of that first kiss
Her name that night was Juliet
Instinct always prevailed over reason
Matters that poets don't understand
There was never a bed in our story
In bathrooms and pantries like trapeze artists
Her back is tattooed in my memory
Two crazies in a bar for hedonists
On Tuesdays she was called Margarita
By Friday nights she was Lola
I always called her miss
You don't have to be so alone
One Monday with the name Maria
She said see you tomorrow and never returned
The bar is now called Melancholy
On Tuesdays she was called Margarita
By Friday nights she was Lola
I always called her miss
You don't have to be so alone
