Canción de pobres corazones (en inglés)

Tonight in the middle of the café
I think of you alone, walking where you are
Poor soaked hearts
Dying, mutilated, ripping the skin
They’ll be lost, they’ll be lost, they’ll be lost

Now I miss you
Now it hurts
Now what I have to pay
Frightens me, I don’t understand

Now I talk
Now it hurts so much, my love
Now I have to hold on
Now I miss you

Today I saw you crossing Santa Fe
I saw you in every glass, in every light, every woman
I’ll put that down on the paper
I died in an attack of passion and stupidity
They’ll be lost, they’ll be lost, they’ll be lost

Now I miss you
Now it hurts
Now what I have to pay
Frightens me, I don’t understand

Now it hurts so much, my love
Now I have to hold on
Now I miss you
Now what do I do, now