Es Lo Que Es, Hay Lo Que Hay
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It Is What It Is, There Is What There Is
They were like a one-night stand in a hotel room with no past or future,
they were what they were because God insisted it be so.
There was no evidence left of their encounter
except the day, the year, the month on the wall
written with nails in the plaster of that old hotel.
Both knew that the ties of love are made of thorns.
Both knew that loving each other is condemning themselves to the end.
Both knew that often a 'I love you' is not enough.
But life is only one, and as far as I know, they don't give more,
for now they don't give more.
It is what it is, there is what there is. For now they don't give more.
It is what it is, there is what there is. For now they don't give more.
And the night of their lives was slipping away as it came, in a whisper.
Whether it was worth it or not, time will tell.
They looked into each other's eyes until they saw each other's hearts,
wishing for four aces at the next opportunity.
Both knew that the ties of love are made of thorns.
Both knew that loving each other is condemning themselves to the end.
Both knew that often a 'I love you' is not enough.
But life is only one, and as far as I know, they don't give more,
for now they don't give more.
It is what it is, there is what there is. For now they don't give more.
It is what it is, there is what there is. For now they don't give more.
They looked into each other's eyes until they saw each other's hearts,
if there was any left, after saying goodbye,
wishing for four aces at the next opportunity.
Both knew that the ties of love are made of thorns.
Both knew that loving each other is condemning themselves to the end.
Both knew that often a 'I love you' is not enough.
But life is only one, and as far as I know, they don't give more,
for now they don't give more.
It is what it is, there is what there is. For now they don't give more.
It is what it is, there is what there is. For now they don't give more.
