Face a Face

They are the tricks of fate, they are the graces of passion
To match with me, you must have an opinion
They are the misfortunes of fate, they are the moths of passion
Whoever wants to marry me must have a good heart

Brunette, when I rethink our playful dream
The sky was so dense, the winter so fleeting
A certainty arises in me, abolishing all my zeal
When I saw myself face to face, staring at my nightmare
The appeal was blind, the deadlock was loose
Suffering our unveiling, losing in the outcome
In the roll like a ball of yarn, until the end of the thaw
Until death embraces me

They are the misfortunes of fate, they are the moths of passion
Whoever wants to marry me must have a good heart
They are the tricks of fate, they are the graces of passion
To match with me, you must have an opinion

Brunette, when I remember that scarlet sky
December had just begun, the battle was already far
A slap shakes me, a certainty overwhelms me
Pain wanting me to die, love wanting me to kill
The dog was loose, biting without barking
In the middle of that mess, losing in the tiebreaker
Spinning like a top, until the sorrow drains
Until the anger breaks free

They are the tricks of fate, they are the graces of passion
To match with me, you must have an opinion
They are the misfortunes of fate, they are the moths of passion
Whoever wants to marry me must have a good heart