Domingo astromántico

And I already know, it happened again,
the tablecloths flew and Sunday became special.

My desire floated on rooftops,
a nice little sun and your skirts in the wind,
nothing more.

Airplanes that I greet by moving a mirror,
clothes and your hair moved to the same beat,
nothing more.

You glide as if you were made of wind
and at the touch of my fingers, you vanish.

If your magic no longer affects me,
how am I going to continue?
If you release me amidst so much wind,
how am I going to continue?
how am I going to continue?

I remember the moon blew and it was broad daylight
and among those clouds, you glimpsed the North Star,
and something else.

Madelmans slaloming down your neck,
air carrying away your mysteries, heading South.

And I know sometimes you think I'm a bit out of it,
but I never miss a single chance to admire how ...

You glide as if you were made of wind
and at the touch of my fingers, you vanish.

If your magic no longer affects me,
how am I going to continue?
If you release me amidst so much wind,
how am I going to continue?
how am I going to continue?