Ella

I got tired of begging her
got tired of telling her
that without her, in sorrow
I die, she didn't want
to listen to me, if her
lips opened it was
to tell me 'I don't
love you anymore.'

I felt that my life
was lost in an abyss
deep and black like
my luck, I wanted to find
forgetfulness in the Jalisco style
but those mariachis
and that tequila
made me cry.

I got tired of begging her
with tears in my eyes
I raised my glass and toasted
with her, she couldn't despise me
it was the last toast of a
bohemian with a queen.

The mariachis fell
from my hand weakly
my glass fell without me
realizing she wanted to stay
when she saw my sadness
but it was already written
that I would lose
her love that night.