De Exclavitud Y de Cadena
Enrique Bunbury
Of Slavery and Chains
Loving you as it is no longer customary
Without a drop of decency
I will marry you
Every time
Whenever it is strictly necessary
Because you are in my case
What faith usually is
For the desperate
Perhaps superstition
Perhaps vocation
Of an incandescent suicide
Without a drop of sanity
If I thought less with my head
Less with my heart
And more with my loins
The triumph of love
In these times of sorrow and forgetfulness
Wine and misery
Returned to my house
The arrow thrown
The word already spoken
The opportunity scorned
The past life
That will not return
And it is a fact
I would impregnate you
With a simple thought of love
Pain must serve for something
That I feel, I'm sorry
This pale sadness of desire
Of slavery and chains
I don't care to know who I am
If I am someone
Or an apprentice whore
Or an unsolved crossword
This passion of a vine
Of summit or precipice
Of penance or meekness
If I thought less with my head
Less with my heart
And more with my loins
The triumph of love
In these times of sorrow and forgetfulness
Wine and misery returned to my house
The arrow thrown
The word already spoken
The opportunity scorned
The life
That will not return
And it is a fact
