If we have to break up
at the end of the road,
let's don't make more reproachs
to the tracherous past;
give me these hours,
let yourself to feel mine
for me to think that you love me
the same way I love you.
And once you are gone,
don't pronounce my name,
don't look into my eyes,
neither say good-bye to me;
leave me your memories
and take along my life.
What else can offer you
my poor heart?
And once you are gone,
don't pronounce my name,
don't look into my eyes,
neither say good-bye to me,
leave me your memories
and take along my life.
What else can offer you
my poor heart?