El Manual

Conchita

The Manual

If I tell you that I love you,
That I can't,
That I'm dying,
That I'm waiting for you,
I'm scared,
But I'll always be there.

You tell me you're overwhelmed,
That you can't,
That you don't want to,
That you'd rather I go away.

If I tell you I can't,
That I'm tired of loving you,
Of getting nothing in return
And that yesterday I fell in love.

You call me and tell me
That you love me,
And you'll die if I leave,
And that I should stay for once, now.

Me trying to find the balance,
Between not loving you, loving you and not being,
Me trying to hide my sorrows,
Silencing an 'I love you' every three.
And I'm tired,
Of pretending not to love you if I do,
I'm tired,
Of telling you I'm fine even though I can't,
I'm tired,
If you love me well
And if not then I'll die,
But don't come looking for me
Once I'm already fine.

If I tell you that I love you,
That I can't,
That I'm dying,
That I'm waiting for you,
I'm scared,
But I'll always be there.

You tell me you're overwhelmed,
That you can't,
That you don't want to,
That you'd rather I go away.

If they tell you they saw me
In the middle of the main street,
Kissing someone's lips
And that I seemed happy.

You call me and tell me
That you love me,
And you'll die if I leave,
And that I should stay for once.

And I'm tired...
Go to hell,
Go to hell,
I'm tired...
Go to hell,
Go to hell,
And I'm tired...
Go to hell,
Go to hell,
I'm tired...
Go to hell,
Go to hell,
I'm tired,
Of pretending not to love you if I do,
I'm tired,
Of telling you I'm fine even though I can't,
I'm tired,
If you love me well
And if not then I'll die,
I'm tired...
I'm tired...
I'm tired...
Go to hell,
Go to hell...
I'm tired...
Go to hell,
Go to hell...
I'm tired...
Go to hell,
Go to hell...