Finally, yesterday the dreaded time arrived
To take stock of my life and finish this song
And instead of pouring salt and vinegar on the wounds
I will once again make a heart out of guts

You won't see me in Benidorm with the Imserso
No one has to explain to me that two and two do not add up to four
That poetry is the attic of a metaverse
Where the muses undress like albatrosses

I have nothing to forget from my past
That's why I hope that oblivion does not forget who I was
I have given more than some have stolen from me
Without forgetting the one who forgot about me

I have always wanted to age without dignity
Even if the rifle has no cartridges left
If the heart does not rhyme with reality
I change course, regretfully

Many believed that I had been written off
When I traveled from the Wizink Center on a stretcher to the hospital
With Serrat's fingers intertwined
Returning my desire to sing

Yesterday's bread is not a good dessert for today
Tomorrow Monday is a time to invent and bet
Since Fernando has painted me in this movie as I am
A gambler who never tires of risking

I have always wanted to age without dignity
Even if the rifle has no cartridges left
If the heart does not rhyme with reality
I change the subject, regretfully

Although something is lost between the dream and the paper
And with the years it hurts more when I listen to myself
Pretending to be a great dirty old man
And the old part, regretfully

I have always wanted to age without dignity
Even if the rifle has no cartridges left
If the heart does not rhyme with reality
I burn my ships
Regretfully

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