A Volar

Neither the sky nor the glory
nor the Nobel Peace Prize
if in bones I have remained
from loving you in solitude

To hell with the wait
the moon and the balcony
your love struck my core
my soul and my heel

And my body is on strike
I don't even know what to invent
either I put you in bed
or I send you flying

Like a puppet
to me, your string is my cane
and even though I never admit it
I go in your direction

When you get closer I lose
when you move away I die
your love is a suicide
I can't but I want to

And my body is on strike
I don't even know what to invent
either I put you in bed
or I send you flying

And my body is on strike
I don't even know what to invent
either I put you in bed
or I send you flying

Chorus (1 more time)