Madrid, deserted like my mattress
the summer in which I grew up,
and she no longer calls.
So much city and so little yet to do,
people dream their siesta and that
look through the window.
People that lie for a scrap of heat,
that pray for the elevator to stop,
so that they can be stuck with you.
Mothers that lose their children at birth,
seeking between your legs what yesterday
they thought they had lost.
Kilometer Zero,
breathing at the heart of the city
is the soul that's lost when it escapes.
Kilometer Zero,
beginning of the days that to come,
the rain that pours down for you.
Bars in where serenity and beer
save our lives, and my head
dreaming of being beneath your clothes.
Promises made in bed,
lights jabbing your back,
let me dress you now.
I will throw my misfortune under some wheels,
perhaps that way I will play that role
where I become your shelter.
Women you can't afford today
query with their lips the truth
that we are still alive.
Kilometer Zero,
breathing at the heart of the city
is the soul that's lost when it escapes.
Kilometer Zero,
beginning of the days that to come,
the rain that pours down for you.
Kilometer Zero,
breathing at the heart of the city
is the soul that's lost when it escapes.
Kilometer Zero,
beginning of the days that to come,
the calm that your storm brings us.
