Description
Producer: Liam Garner
Lyrics and translation
Original
Ya tengo el pulso a doscientos mientras me acerco muy lento a tu casa.
Me imagino ese movimiento, qué monumento cuando andas descalza.
Mueves tus caderas al ritmo de mi guitarra. Pones cara rara, sonríes y ríes, me besas y callas. Sonando John
Mayer de fondo, tumbada en mi cama, vainilla el ambiente.
Abres la ventana y entra la corriente.
Detente, mi mente ya va a doscientos veinte y la curva de tus dientes dice: "Miénteme".
Mil doscientos besos hay que darnos antes de mentirnos sin piedad.
Mil doscientos pasos hasta vernos, vernos esta tarde de domingo.
Enciendes el piti con cerillas y miras las estrellas, soltando el humo con fuerza, intentando llegar a ellas.
Me asomo a la ventana y con la luz apagada te robo unos besitos y vamos a la cama.
Hay calas, playas, románticas veladas, bailando entre sábanas, reina de la sabana. Hay palmos de tu espalda por milimetrar.
Somos un trozo de mármol aún sin cincelar.
Mil doscientos besos hay que darnos antes de mentirnos sin piedad.
Mil doscientos pasos hasta vernos, vernos esta tarde de domingo.
English translation
My pulse is already at two hundred as I approach your house very slowly.
I imagine that movement, what a monument when you walk barefoot.
You move your hips to the rhythm of my guitar. You make a strange face, you smile and laugh, you kiss me and remain silent. Ringing John
Mayer in the background, lying on my bed, the atmosphere vanilla.
You open the window and the current comes in.
Stop, my mind is already going two hundred and twenty and the curve of your teeth says: "Lie to me."
Twelve hundred kisses must be given before lying to each other without mercy.
Twelve hundred steps until we see each other, see each other this Sunday afternoon.
You light the piti with matches and look at the stars, releasing the smoke with force, trying to reach them.
I look out the window and with the light off I steal some kisses from you and we go to bed.
There are coves, beaches, romantic evenings, dancing between the sheets, queen of the savanna. There are spans of your back to measure.
We are a piece of marble not yet chiseled.
Twelve hundred kisses must be given before lying to each other without mercy.
Twelve hundred steps until we see each other, see each other this Sunday afternoon.