Cóseme [English translation]

I know you look at me without seeing me.

I wanted a piece of you, not to break into pieces.

You'd rather say "I'm always here" than "stay with me".

I'd rather have the open wound than the skin.

I say "tomorrow everything will be okay",

you insist saying "I can't forget yesterday".

You keep being eaten up by doubts,

and I say with my naked soul: "dress me".

Just tell me when, don't tell me where,

we'll be staring at the same horizon together.

Let's jump around without a direction.

We're but joined forces that break apart.

And all those plans we did not make,

because I know there's no fate that suits us well...

It's not about walking together with you,

It's about you joining me when I'm walking alone.

I want to dance with luck,

and for luck to join me despite stomping on my feet.

I have but one thing to ascertain,

it looks like I failed you...

And so it was

that I keep trying to come back

knowing that I can fail,

knowing all too well well it all breaks apart.

You know that

I'm telling you to stitch me up,

to close up what you tore apart...

not to act like you're hiding.

Just tell me when, don't tell me where,

and we'll stare at the same horizon together.

Let's jump around, of course it matters to me

if I'm looking for you and now you're hiding inside me.

If you love me then just tell me how clearly,

because I can't tell; you say "it doesn't matter"...

but it does for me, so tell me, do I jump, or stay in your skin?

Something tells me "go", I say "stick around".

We all have this one person who turned us into a thousand pieces

and then told us "now get yourself together".

I only wanted a change of air,

to stop needing you, if I wanted to breathe as well.

You say you don't need anybody

but I know you say that just to think you love yourself.

I can't contain myself,

I would be content with containing you.

I know you look at me without seeing me,

I wanted a piece of you, not to break into pieces.

You'd rather say "I'm still here" than "come here".

I'd rather have the open wound than the skin.

I say "tomorrow everything will be okay",

you insist saying "I can't forget yesterday".

You keep being eaten up by doubts,

and I say with my naked soul: "dress me".