That I fill your arena.
That I sew the mouth, since a lack me.
for eyes That put me two buttons,
because I do not need more than I've seen.
That my seams are sewn with thread
handlers those still not very well who they are,
and are sewn together, stitch by stitch. ;
That patches with those who took shape,
are patches of salt.
For that I am now, totally
stitching.
Much of the blame, I have it myself.
Rather, I have all the blame.
My fault, my fault, through my most grievous fault.
I feel tattered y. ..
feeling and it hurts me clouds.
I totally broken. Destroyed.
my There are only some remnants,
cost me even pick up the ground.
So many scraps and pieces that are so small that
I've lost count nowadays.
I think I never regain consciousness.
Days pass and I feel
a rag doll, extracted,
amorphous, ugly and disposal.
frayed. And all I have to blame me ...
But I'm still here, brave in the challenge.
Without waiting for anyone to come and play with me.
Valiente, but alone and without shelter.
crossed by black pins,
I transferred skin, flesh,
heart and soul,
if a dummy like me has it,
or have ever had.
That soul that gives me life ...
and feel inside of me
despite
badly hurt my sewing and stitching to equal parts.
Only, who try to keep doing
love you for a tie,
but I warn you that the things of love,
are always two things.
I can help you with voodoo,
but the magic of you to put your.
So the last day that my partner,
think I'll notice right away.
will feel I have left the world if I'm with her,
and if it is not, I miss life.
every morning I remember how much I love her,
to never turn off the heat of our passion,
I will try to keep on
with gentleness, tenderness and love.
And try not to stab pins in the heart.
never tire of telling me pretty.
to watch what she needs.
And in the bitter moment,
my kisses will groups,
to feel my lover and a woman ,
a female and a woman.
Although for the love ...
voodoo do it with me ...
Say black magic books
and the submissions of the sorcery,
that hurt a person
have to wait for the night
fall on the day.
Light a black candle
and light the fire of
develop a doll
to make voodoo.
Someone lit the candle
and cut with scissors
a patchwork fabric
and gave human form.
seams pressed his
and sand filled
a beach in Cádiz.
with his scissors and cut off piece by piece the flag
all Cadiz,
to tie the feet
tie around the neck,
tying their hands.
him with two-button eyes,
sewed her mouth with red thread.
and using their powers
was nailing pins.
But that poor shaman sorcerer's apprentice
did not have the strength and power
the magic of February.
And though not the remedy for our ills,
we made up a song,
mouth ripped us
and sing in carnivals.
Who makes you a broken doll
and I tangled with wires. Who
clawing you
pins you reach the felt.
Who nails in your hands and not let you work,
who stabs your feet and do not let go. Who
nails your eyes and not see reality,
who you are removing the fight's warranty. Who
always puts you between a rock and a hard place,
who makes you hurt yourself, tell me Cadiz, who.
who wants to hurt
and stick a pin
to turn against him.
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