A Cara o Cruz - Ricardo Arjona

El azar es la metafora perfecta,

de quien le busca inspiracion a la tristeza,

el destino es la cuartada sigilosa,

de quien lo pretende todo y nunca acierta…

Mientras el destino asoma su perfil,

el presente se debate con la muerte,

como quien se juega el todo por el todo.

como una moneda puesta al viento.

jugando siempre, apostando siempre…

A cara o cruz, ante la incrucijada

revisas las cosas que pudieron pasar,

y que se suspendieron, por verlas,

girando en el viento.

A cara o cruz, te jugaste los besos,

los sueños, el llanto y la cordura mortal,

de ignorar el futuro, y escoger al amor de

tu vida.

A cara o cruz.

mientras que en la ventana se escurre,

el tiempo.

Mientras la moneda da vuelvas, al viento,

un beso te perfuma la existencia,

mujer de corazon partido en dos,

dime a cual mitad yo pertenezco.

Lo que para ti es tremenda incrucijada,

para mi es amar la incertidumbre,

lo que para ti es borron y cuenta nueva,

para mi es principio o final,

jugando siempre, apostando siempre.

A cara o cruz, ante la incrucijada

revisas las cosas que pudieron pasar,

y que se suspendieron, por verlas,

girando en el viento.

A cara o cruz, te jugaste los besos,

los sueños, el llanto y la cordura mortal,

de ignorar el futuro, y escoger al amor de

tu vida.

A cara o cruz.

mientras que en la ventana se escurre,

el tiempo.

Chance is the perfect metaphor,

of those who seek inspiration from sadness,

fate is the stealthy fourth,

who wants everything and never gets it right...

While fate looms its profile,

the present struggles with death,

like someone who plays everything for everything.

like a coin tossed in the wind.

always playing, always betting...

To heads or tails, at the crossroads

you review the things that could have happened,

and that they were suspended, to see them,

spinning in the wind.

To heads or tails, you played the kisses,

the dreams, the crying and the mortal sanity,

to ignore the future, and choose the love of

your life.

To heads or tails.

while in the window it slips away,

time.

While the coin gives you return, to the wind,

a kiss perfumes your existence,

woman with a broken heart,

Tell me which half I belong to.

What for you is a tremendous crossroads,

for me it is to love uncertainty,

what for you is a clean slate,

for me it is the beginning or the end,

always playing, always betting.

To heads or tails, at the crossroads

you review the things that could have happened,

and that they were suspended, to see them,

spinning in the wind.

To heads or tails, you played the kisses,

the dreams, the crying and the mortal sanity,

to ignore the future, and choose the love of

your life.

To heads or tails.

while in the window it slips away,

time.