es un negocio, echame una mano, sientate al piano, Eh, Fito, que te necesito. Aqui te esperan las tijeras del sol el asfalto, el smog y el perfume mas
del puerto es un lugar donde van los fracasos a morir, hay olor a cerveza y a cafe, a lodo y a carmin. (estribillo) La taberna del puerto huele a sal, a perfume
we laughed because the room sailed away Fancy glitter in the summer arcades Then autumn leaves fall by a winter lane Piano echoes and the perfume still
And I'm still asleep but I can hear the piano When you make breakfast after 10 And I smell the coffee on your fingers I still smell the perfume in the
lonely since she found Christ. Now is the time to depend on the law: the nights of my professional life. I was living in a very young city. Grand piano