And I promised myself that I would get myself together
And I promised myself that I would not call anymore,
But she makes me not be a man of my word anymore.
And I run on the streets, drunk, again
So that I can maybe forget all that hurt me
But it hurts more and more.
What was I thinking to look at her?
Her room,
The museum of love,
From today, it is closed
And I've woken up from the dream.
Her room,
A world without a key,
Even if today was the last day,
Again, we would find each other.
And I tried at other doors, too
Even at Brancusi's door,
But still, I miss her voice, at the shower.
From so many doors of the world that were constructed,
Exactly on hers did I knock,
And I remained, for good, at hers, unloved.
What was I thinking to kiss her?
Her room,
The museum of love,
From today, it is closed
And I've woken up from the dream.
Her room,
A world without a key,
Even if today was the last day,
Again, we would find each other.
Again, we would love each other.