I continue to take on new challenges for me so this year, despite all the circumstances that have happened to us this year, we can't see everything looking bad. I am sure that at home you have learned something new, you have shared more with your family, you have adjusted some things of the house that you had years wanting to do and you did not have the time to do it, for sure you have started to see online classes of marketing, guitar, literature, production or what I know. In my case, I've been taking a little bit of everything. And of course, one of the things that I don't stop learning and studying is singing. Without shame I tell you that little by little I will be improving my vocal technique. You already know me and my perseverance and that of all of us, is the greatest weapon we have to overcome any obstacle we have. Here I am presenting another song by the singer Ricardo Arjona. I hope you like it and of course, I hope to read your comments. Thank you all for reading, listening and support me to continue growing as a singer, person and artist.
I like his profound compositions, inspired by lessons he has learned from life. And forgive me if anyone here feels alluded to, but there are those who will never understand your songs because they cannot distinguish a verb from a noun.
Love is dying, he has a cold fever. He fell out of bed, when he was pushed by the jack-of-all-trades. And he is sick to death, the same one who was so strong. He has kissing anemia, he has cancer of forgetfulness, and to top it off, he has a death wish. Love is dying. Our desire is dying. We see them agonizing, convulsing between the sheets. And there is no red wine. That revives our instinct. We are dying of magic, passion, madness. Oh treacherous love. You came to hump us. I survived without her and she was happy without me. Oh love, with time you have rusted us. Ay amor sensible, ay amor delicado. Woe to love, don't die, or get beaten to death. That there is no worse agony, than that which is from step to step. Love dies on us. Tenderness is over. And we turn freedom into a dictatorship. It is contagious as usual. The fire is missing. Our dreams, our verses, our kisses die. Oh implacable love, I don't know what I prefer anymore. That you hate me from the heart or that you love me, without love. Oh love, with time you have become rusty. Ay sensitive love, ay delicate love. Oh love don't die or die in a stranglehold. That there is no worse agony, than that which is from step to step. If everything was so beautiful, tell me what happens to us. Today we are no longer friends and we cannot fit in the house. Oh love so ungrateful. Take away just one doubt, if you are the one who dies, or I am the one who kills you.