Several days have passed without you.
Where have you gone? Where did you hide from me?
I knife stars and people scream when they see,
full of sadness, that I ripped my heart out.
I told you: "In your absence I take care of Madrid,
that I will be fine", and here I lied to you.
I review places, the pain turns me into salt.
The streets of Huertas, where she drunkenly shouted
my name in the bars, the bars where I loved her.
The war in her body, I think it was yesterday.
Exhausted, soaked in alcohol and in her absence,
bleeding from the wound she has open this wait,
screaming: "Where are you, blonde? Come back."

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