Sin palabras

If there is no love, if there are no more kisses
If there are no more hours, minutes, seconds
To be close to you
There is no idea, the slightest idea
What is love

If there is no longer laughter, only the crying that warns
That we are two more who walk aimlessly
With no place to go
There is no idea, the slightest idea
What is love

The words are made
And they cannot be expressed
Because how we act is not the most usual way
There is no such thing as casual, the most formal detail
A bed that sleeps without the peace of your ideal

The words are made
And no, and we cannot express
Because how we act is not the most usual way
There is no such thing as casual, the most formal detail
A bed that sleeps without the peace of your ideal

Love is what we think and something more
But when we mistreat each other, no, we don't know where it goes

Yesterday that you that I wanted the thing
Later without a reason fighting
With the left hand giving
With the right mommy punishing

We don't know where it goes
Or maybe who he is with
Arid land was blown away
There is no one who can sow again
The subscription is over

People say that you are out there crying
People say I'm here laughing

Laughing at what if I didn't forgive the mistake
Do the math, don't make mistakes
Pay what you owe me
But, but, but at once

Experience makes perfect
And the street unwrapped
The words are count
The rest is pure fiction