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December

If one time I wrote your name next to mine on the wall
Today I return to leave flowers at the shade of a cypress
If your voice isn't my teacher anymore nor in the art of offending
What does it matter to remember who you were or of whom I feel in love with?
 
If there is nothing left to talk about
If there is nothing left than to be quiet
How can it be that it hurts so much?
 
Without fear in the hell of remembering
If it returns to be Sunday morning
Stay with me by my side
 
When the train of a dead story passes time on the platform
It could be that the grass grows and buries our feet
What does it matter who paid the dinner or if we leave it to be owed if the silence was drawn with the migas on the tablecloth.
 
If there is nothing left to talk about
If there is nothing left than to be quiet
How can it be that it hurts so much?
 
Without fear in the hell of remembering
If it returns to be Sunday morning
Stay with me by my side
 
What does it matter to look at each other if it is always December?
What does it matter to cross my fingers if you no longer lie to me?
 
What does it matter if it rains?
What does it matter if we get wet
if underneath the umbrella
you do not take my arm?
 
What does it matter who you were
if no one responds?
What does it matter to wait awake for you
if when you return you hide?
 
What does it matter the silence
Always so sincere
Always there between you and I,
when there is no remedy?
 
Originaltext

Diciembre

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Kommentare
BlackRyderBlackRyder
   Mi, 27/04/2022 - 05:06

The source lyrics have been updated, revised and corrected. Please review your translation.