More songs by El Último De La Fila
Description
Bass: Antonio Fidel
Mixer, Producer: David Tickle
Percussion: Hossam Ramzy
Engineer: Ian Cooper
Drums, Percussion: Juan Carlos García
Vocals: Manolo García
Guitar, Keyboards, Producer: Quimi Portet
Composer: Manuel García García-Pérez
Composer: Quimi Portet
Lyrics and translation
Original
Entras sin llamar, no te esperaba y el azar como una trampa te tendió en mi camino.
Yo nada pedí y presumía de vivir en la contemplación, en el deleite del placer, en la ansiada calma.
Tu boca que es tenue luz, túnel de amor, lodo traidor que me hace resbalar entrelazado a ti.
No quieras más, más no te puedo dar.
Baja el espino, pájaro sol, imploro tu favor, pido protección.
Este antojo anima a mí de mi voluntad.
Golpea en el yunque de mi obsesión, golpea y golpea que forjarás ese metal precioso que es la serenidad.
Tira otra piedra que has de ayudar, piedra sobre piedra he de levantar el dique que frene el frío de tu amor.
Crece, florece, crecido estás, al brote de tus tallos reventarás, árbol de laurel que invierno adormeció.
Tu vana presencia, rosa en el ojal artificial.
Nunca marchites, soplo de ausencia, muero por verte, muero de amor.
Rasga la trama que el aire va soltando la saeta que en blanco y negro me surcan las esquirlas de mi peregar.
Tira otra piedra que has de ayudar, piedra sobre piedra he de levantar el dique que frene el frío de tu amor.
English translation
You come in without knocking, I wasn't expecting you and chance like a trap laid you on my path.
I asked for nothing and boasted of living in contemplation, in the delight of pleasure, in the longed-for calm.
Your mouth, which is a faint light, a tunnel of love, a traitorous mud that makes me slip intertwined with you.
Don't want more, I can't give you more.
Put down the thorn, sun bird, I implore your favor, I ask for protection.
This craving animates me of my will.
Strike on the anvil of my obsession, strike and strike and you will forge that precious metal that is serenity.
Throw another stone that you have to help, stone upon stone I have to raise the dam that stops the cold of your love.
Grow, bloom, you are grown, at the bud of your stems you will burst, laurel tree that winter put to sleep.
Your vain presence, rose in the artificial buttonhole.
Never wither, breath of absence, I'm dying to see you, I'm dying of love.
It tears the plot that the air releases the arrow that in black and white the splinters of my journey cross me.
Throw another stone that you have to help, stone upon stone I have to raise the dam that stops the cold of your love.