La Lola

Her name is Lola and she has a story
Although more than a story, it's a poem
Her whole life passed searching
For nights of glory like a tormented soul
Behind her cold lady's cloak
She had hidden tremendous weapons
For the face-to-face battles
Which she won with a great advantage
She went through a lot from hand to hand
From mouth to mouth, from bed to bed
Like a doll that wears out
She grows old and carries the sorrow

Listen to me Lola, my tender Lola
Your sad life is your sad story
But what a way to walk
Look at the pride in her gaze

Listen to me Lola, my tender Lola
Your sad life is your sad story
But what a way to walk
Look at the pride in her gaze

Listen to me Lola, my tender Lola
Your sad life is your sad story

She was a serene woman until the moment
She willingly gave herself to her lovers
It's a time of tears, a time of doubt
Of nostalgia and her madness
You have the comfort of knowing yourself full
Of pure affection and sincere love
Because no one could steal from your kisses
What you now have in abundance and no one longs for

It's the time of the unforgiving wrinkle
It's the time of the fruit and the makeup