En el bosque,
Creatures of the flowers
Dripping with the sweetness
Of your chocolate voice.
It travels so far to reach me,
But only after a wrong turn.
Those words weren't meant for me,
But still I hungered for them,
So what does it matter?
Let her live in the place you dream,
Where she's forgotten his name already,
The name I depend on,
That brings disaster always...
Forty-eight hours
To escape the torture
With the drums' flamenco
And a Spanish imitation...
But see how he reminds me of you?
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