Spring is already here at some department store,
the lastest neon flashes
while half the city still sleeps.
Madrid awakens drowsily,
the whores return to their lairs.
Some wait at home, other ties himself to his routine.

A thousand prisoners say goodbye to their husbands,
false remnants in their kisses of all their many losses.
It dawns slowly and the day to day war
will defeat those women that spend their lives waiting.
Again on the number 62¹ they will meet
she and he half asleep on their way to college.
For three years they shared
this journey each morning,
one in the dreams of the other and they'll never tell each other.

Spring is already there at some department store,
the latest neon flashes
while half the city still sleeps.
Madrid awakens drowsily,
the whores return to their lairs.
Some wait at home, other ties himself to his routine.

A bum requests urgent help
to lose himself
in his addictive loneliness, to get away from so much shit.
Even if no drug sedates any longer,
even if he dies tomorrow,
in some department store spring will have arrived.
Couldn't cope with the stress that efficient executive,
that morning the city turned him into an assassin
In the middle of the street he took out a weapon
And he shot madly killing
a bum, two young people and a husband
that left a wife waiting.

Spring is already there at some department store,
the latest neon flashes
while half the city still sleeps.
Madrid awakens, to the news stands
the papers have arrived;
new terror tales, the losers have lost again.

Spring is already there at some department store,
the latest neon flashes
while half the city still sleeps.
Madrid awakens drowsily,
the whores return to their lairs.
Some wait at home, other ties himself to his routine.