Miel en la nevera

I get home later and later,
it's dawn.
I've drunk more than I can handle,
same as yesterday.

I feel fear and cold in the hallways,
because you're not here.
Raiding honey in the fridge,
but there's nothing there.

I've kept on fighting
for one more time,
I can't sleep,
my angels aren't around.

The phone keeps hanging off the hook
just like yesterday.
I make shadow puppets with my hands
on the wall.

The mess is taking over
our room,
the piles of records
are my salvation.

This blue ceiling is closing in
like every time.
Without love,
I'd rather be without love.
Without love.