Negro Cinturón

You don't believe anything I say,
You just want to be my friend,
You spend time with me,
Movies and then from bar to bar.

I don't even have a penny, you say,
Smoking a cigarette butt,
Your smile between sideburns
Like a pirate on the high seas.

And I ignite like a match
And my bell rings
When you touch me with the buckle
Of your black belt.

What time is it? It's past three.
I'm going home, you know why,
I should already be in pajamas,
You're killing me with this insane life.

You don't believe anything I say,
You just want to be my friend,
But you put your tongue in my belly button
To drive me even more desperate.

And you still wear sneakers
And I'm no longer a little girl
And although I hide the blade
You still don't trust me.

My knees buckle,
I melt like butter,
And I forget for a while the splinter
That pierces my poor heart.

What time is it? It's past three.
I'm going home, you know why,
You'll end up biting the apple,
That's why I have this bad reputation.

Oh, I love your attic,
The guitar on the chair,
A light bulb on the ceiling,
On the floor nothing but a mattress.

You can touch the stars
In the reflection of the bottles,
I know you're thinking of her
When we make love.

You're more than just a good friend
And you still don't believe anything I say,
I'm addicted to this punishment,
Oh, and to that black belt.

What time is it? It's past three.
I'm going home, you know why,
I'm going headfirst all week
And I can't afford to wake up late tomorrow.

I'll give you my eternal love
As long as the cold winter lasts,
I won't go back to the hell
Of married life.