Angeles Desangelados
Cómplices
Fallen Angels
Little leaves are growing
On the trees
Under the rains of the season
Little by little each one
Finds its place,
Strange ghosts to me
Fallen angels will be born
In your heart
How many times will they brush against infinity
In your heart
Wings are growing, smiling
Like angels
For the chosen ones of love
They fly to the seventh heaven
Then they burn
Like dry hay of pleasure
Fallen angels will be born
In your heart
How many times will they brush against infinity
In your heart
Fallen angels...
