If it rains, people on the street no longer find their bearings.
They cover their heads with the newspaper under the closest balcony
and then, behind my excuses, I don't feel like going out.
See? Things happen even without us both.
And I write you a message,
however, I don't send it.
'Cause you might miss me
or what do I know?
I undress your pictures with my hands.
If you come to mind, you remain there for a while.
In this dirty and invisible love,
I'll ask you one difficult thing.
Remain afar, remain afar
but as little as possible.
'Cause sooner or later they'll arrive, the days where you'll miss me
and you will only think of a cobalt blue sky,
of us on the pavement, my hands next to you,
and you won't have any regrets or remorse.
But if you need me to,
I might dream of you,
or what do I know?
I undress your pictures with my hands.
If you come to mind, you remain there for a while.
In this dirty and invisible love,
I'll ask you one difficult thing.
Remain afar, remain afar but...
Leaving, leaving, leaving, leaving it's absolutely useless.
I've put a picture of you and me between the beautiful ones.
A friend of yours and a friend of mine say it doesn't matter
but in the meantime it's been raining buckets for months and it won't stop,
but I beg you, return as soon as possible
If you come to mind, you remain there for a while.
In this dirty and invisible love,
I'll ask you one difficult thing.
Remain afar, remain afar
but as little as possible.