Made In Spain
Had I confessed to the sea how much I cherished you,
The ocean would have thrown itself in the ocean,
And the waves would have dressed in black mourning you,
Mourning the death of love and the suicide of the ocean.
Had I confessed to their majesties how my heart crowned you,
The kings of the world would have -since the start of creation- sent me to exile
For not having crowned them as I crowned you
For having nominated you my queen for a while.
Had I confessed to my nights how you invaded my slumber
With a defilé of dreams and a troop of endless nightmares,
My nights would have blasted you with flocks of anger
And would have asked the sky to pour, instead of water, tears
But I abided silent and drunk from the cup of patience.
Oh... poor soul! How long could you endure such a pain?
A pain that has dressed a weird costume called silence
A special silence, a special pain, made in Spain.