Uno Mas Uno Son 7
Fran Perea
One Plus One is Seven
On a platform at the station
Under the scorching sun
You were talking about a skyscraper
From the New York sky
Come soon to see the sea
And send a postcard
I already knew that day was the end
And now I have much more
Red, black, even or odd
Finally luck brings an Ace
And a crystal to look through
And a wall to hang
Seven smiling faces
In a passport photo
My stories didn't talk about tales
Made by chance
No one told me that destiny
Gave this opportunity
One plus one is seven
Who would have thought
That it was so easy
To be happy
How many years have I been here
How many can I have left
What is the exact price
Of happiness
Who will remember me
Who will look at you again
Who drives the handles
Of chance
A caress from yesterday
Some unsigned postcards
And that Burning's record
Are not things to keep
Today I smile remembering
That you will dream of flying
From the benches of Madrid
You can't see the sea
My stories didn't talk about tales
Made by chance
No one told me that destiny
Gave this opportunity
One plus one is seven
Who would have thought
That it was so easy to be happy
If there was a time for me
Now it's for the six
They're leaving the cafe
The mess starts again
Like every dawn
There are toasts for three
Tidy up the room
This family portrait
Deserves a song
My stories didn't talk about tales
Made by chance
No one told me that destiny
Gave this opportunity
One plus one is seven
Who would have thought
That it was so easy to be happy
