Turista Accidental [English translation]

An apple between my fingers,

and on my lips the memory.

Newly arrived, newly and just as old,

we came across each other on a desert crossing.

[Chorus:] x2

I'm not a tourist in this city,

I'm not a feather in the wind.

I'm an eye stare, fire, warmth

that's leaving but's remaining.

When your sincere smile touches my soul

in whose pocket will the accidents be saved.

Passengers at a dead end have lost the train,

the present's escaping so fast that you do not see it.

(chorus) x2

My warmth stays close to you,

my warmth.