En La Esquina Del Zorro

My hands are dead.
They refuse to write
Something is circling in my head
That doesn't let me go on

Those red stockings
Upset the nerves
Looking into your eyes
And I break easily

I'll reach the end of the street
To enter the same corner
As always a deadly parade
Of beers at the counter

I stumbled at the fox's corner
And liked his body
A skirt at the fox's corner
Deserves a song

Those red stockings
Upset the nerves
Looking into your eyes
And I break easily

Here I am again looking at you
Here I am again looking at you