If once I wrote your name next to mine on the wall
Today I return to leave flowers in the shadow of a cypress
If your voice is no longer my teacher even in the art of offending
What does it matter to remember who you were or who I fell in love with

If there is nothing left to talk about
If there is nothing left to keep quiet
How can it hurt so much?

Without fear in hell to remember
If it's Sunday again when waking up
Stay with me here by my side

When the train of a dead story passes on time at the platform
It may be that the grass grows and buries itself in our feet
What does it matter who paid for dinner or if we stopped drinking
If silence drew with the crumbs of the tablecloth

If there is nothing left to talk about
If there is nothing left to keep quiet
How can it hurt so much?

Without fear in hell to remember
If it's Sunday again when waking up
Stay with me here by my side

What does it matter to look at each other if it's always December
What does it matter to cross fingers if you no longer lie to me
What does it matter if it rains, what does it matter if we get wet
If under the umbrella you are not on my arm

What does it matter who you were if no one answers
What does it matter to wait awake if you hide when you return
What does it matter the silence always so sincere
Always so attentive between you and me when there is no remedy

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