Below is the lyrics of the song El día que lluevan pianos , artist - Marea with translation
Original text with translation
Marea
Adiós, decía el estampido y yo
Detrás de su reflejo fui
Sujétame un rato este sol, te dije, y ya jamás volví
Y con tanto rumiar las briznas me olvidé
De echarle más pelusa al ombligo y, tal vez
Debí mirar atrás y preguntar si ayer
La lontananza era limpia y la senda también
Será que mi cansino caminar
No ronda por la puerta de
Aquello que llaman amor
Y en el alféizar me quedé
Mirándote al pasar, queriéndote ofrecer
El pienso de tan lejos que no pudo ser
Y te quiero contar que nada me amparó
Así que mal y tarde te pido
Quédate hasta el día que lluevan pianos
Quédate hasta que yo dé mi brazo a retorcer
Y fóllame, como si esta noche me fuera a comer
Las estrellas una a una
Quédate, jugará tu corazón al esconder, con el mío
En la basura
Contar las puntadas sin hilo es
Lo que me queda por hacer
Que dicen que tan necio soy
Que no he sabido enloquecer
Pero juré enlutar los tumbos que bordé
Y levantarme cabal y maldito por ti
Y, al decirle al papel que sigo estando aquí
El eco me devuelva el gemido
Goodbye, said the stampede and I
Behind her reflection of her I went
Hold this sun for a while, I told you, and I never came back
And with so much ruminating the blades I forgot
To add more fluff to the navel and maybe
I should have looked back and asked if yesterday
The distance was clear and the path too
Could it be that my tired walk
Don't hang around the door
what they call love
And on the windowsill I stayed
Watching you pass by, wanting to offer you
I think from so far away that it couldn't be
And I want to tell you that nothing protected me
So bad and late I ask you
Stay until the day it rains pianos
Stay until I give my arm to twist
And fuck me, as if tonight I was going to eat
The stars one by one
Stay, your heart will play hide-and-seek with mine
In the trash
Counting stitches without thread is
What I have left to do
They say how foolish I am
That I have not known how to go crazy
But I swore to mourn the tumbles that I bordered
And stand up straight and cursed for you
And, by telling the paper that I'm still here
The echo returns the moan
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