Nos Sobran Los Motivos
Joaquín Sabina
We Have More Than Enough Reasons
This waiting room without hope
These piles of a dried-out doorbell
This strawberry ice cream of revenge
This moving company
With the furniture of love
This silent bell in the bell tower
This half split in half
These Judas kisses, this calvary
This prisoner look
This cure of humility
This change of sidewalk of your hip
These desires for nothing, except for you
This suburb without crickets in spring
No backs with zippers
No rings to show off
This dollhouse of alternates
This cluster of salt petals
This eyeless hurricane that governs it
This Thursday, this Friday
And the Wednesday to come
Do not abuse my inspiration
Do not accuse my heart
So battered and worn
That it is closed for demolition
Through the wrinkles of my voice
Desolation seeps
To know that these are
The last verses I write to you
To say goodbye to both with God
We have more than enough reasons
This museum of dissected archangels
This Andalusian dog without taming
This dethroned prince's throne
This fishbone
This ruin of Don Juan
This tear of caveman
This Bluebeard's shoe last
How short eternal life lasts
Through the tunnel of your legs
Between Córdoba and Maipú
This cynical and sorrowful guitar
With its stubborn knock knockin' on heaven's door
These lips that taste like farewell
Like vinegar on wounds
Like a station handkerchief
This Land Rover parked in your gown
Penelope's spinning wheel at Luna Park
These fingers that dream of undressing you
This widowed conch shell
Without the sea's player piano
Do not abuse my inspiration
Do not accuse my heart
So battered and worn
That it is closed for demolition
Through the wrinkles of my voice
Desolation seeps
To know that these are
The last verses I write to you
Do not abuse my inspiration
Do not accuse my heart
So battered and worn
That it is closed for demolition
Through the wrinkles of my voice
Desolation seeps
To know that these are
The last verses I write to you
To say goodbye to both with God
We have more than enough reasons
