Arma de Doble Filo

Loneliness, a double-edged sword riding, riding
With each dawn slipping away, slipping away.
It's that cold finger that's always scratching, scratching.
It's the old lie that peeked in remembering, remembering.

Loneliness, a bad travel companion.

It traps me when I'm humming to tango, humming.
It doesn't let go until it makes me cry, it intoxicates me whispering.
And while I kiss a woman's chest or shelter her resting
It waits because it knows I'll return to its side grumbling.

Loneliness, a bad travel companion.