Siete Crisantemos

If I have ever given more than I have
I have been given sometimes more than I give
I have already forgotten the place where I come from
And maybe the place where I am going doesn't exist

I have never gotten used to good habits
I got bored of the warmth of the home fire
It also rains on wet ground in hell
I know because I have spent more than one night there

In search of the seven keys of mystery
Seven sad verses for a song
Seven chrysanthemums in the cemetery
Seven black question marks

In such dark times false prophets are born
And many swallows flee the city
The murderer knows more about love than the poet
And the sky is getting further away from the sea

The good thing about the years is that they heal wounds
The bad thing about kisses is that they create addiction
Yesterday the woman of my life wanted to kill me
She was pulling the trigger when she woke up

With seven thorns from the flower of adultery
Seven roads ahead of me
Seven chrysanthemums in the cemetery
Seven times no, seven times yes

I fall in love with everything, I settle for nothing
An aroma, a hug, a piece of bread
And whatever they give me for the ballad
Of private life, of so and so

Seven chrysanthemums in the cemetery
Seven farewells at a station
Seven chrysanthemums in the cemetery
Seven cardinals in the heart