Los mismos clavos

You tell me I look like the snails
I have too much roof, I die in suns,
behind the thickness of the downpour
maybe the good path has turned bad
or that I don't want to hit a single stick,
that I just want to hear your voice.

that I always arrive at the wrong time marked by the heart
and that, when we are alone, the shell bothers.

they tell me that your panties flutter
that they do it just for me to see
that they carry wings of lovelessness,
maybe we dirty them so badly
that the mattresses are bad people,
that they always want to be right.

that I always arrive at the wrong time marked by the heart
and that, when we are alone, the shell bothers.

my house is where you are
the same eyes, the same light
my house is where you are
the same nails, the same cross
the same nails, the same coffin.