To I am talking to you, which you do not hear, To you that what you spare me light to turn on, To you that you play to earn when you know that I have everything, To I am talking to you but you little amount, what I am saying.
To thee I am talking to you but is time, To you as you away from the rigour and melancholy cry, If I said was the truth because the truth has always been a lie, To thee I am talking to you but you mother what I am saying.
To you that you lack the courage to for you, To you you consuelas with Channel cover the of my kisses, To you and you do not anything, To you and you do not anything, anything.
To you who these thinking with their feet, To you I am left alone when you were in my company, To you and you do not anything, To you and you do not anything, anything.
To thee I am to you as deaf and resigned, To you who with your pride and you stop playing with resentment cheap, To you you like to go martyr blame that are yours, To thee I am to you because no one else is that he understands I am saying.
To you that you lack the to fight for you, To you you with Channel cover the traces of my kisses, To you and you do not anything, To you and you do not anything, anything.
To you who these thinking with their feet, To you I am left alone even when you in my company, To you and you do not anything, To you and you do not anything, anything.
To you and you do not have anything, and I at least syndrome incurable quererte of both. To you and you do not anything.
To you that you lack the courage to for you, To you you consuelas with cover the traces of my kisses, To you and you do not anything, To you and you do not anything, anything