Love always ends in heartbreak,
be it a month, a year, a decade,
or a lifetime.
Love always ends in heartbreak,
one leaves, one cheats, one dies first,
but it will always end in heartbreak.
The point is how long we can prolong it.

Let me be the first to say that I was wrong,
that I'm gonna miss you for so long,
because I know you're not ever coming back,
and yet all I can do is play the same sad track.
I would never beg for you to stay,
so I'll just miss you another day;
the clock keeps moving and I'm running out of time,
sitting here wondering if you were ever mine,
and I'm dying for you to know,
just how much I love you so.
I could measure our romance,
if you just gave me one more chance;
I'd count the pebbles on a courtyard,
or the streetlights on the boulevard,
and you'd know I love you at that amount,
with strength so much more than I can count.
I see you on the reflection of mirrors on the walls,
and on the shadows, galloping down the halls.
Will you stay with me just a little longer?
At least until I can forget,
or until I feel a little stronger,
but not strong enough to regret.

My painter friend looked at me and laughed,
"I can't draw, I've told you that," I said.
"What a sad life to not be able to place your emotions on a canvas,"
he grinned.
"I don't paint but I write," I replied, "Want to know the difference?"
Intrigued he awaited for my answer,
"Your art is for the eye, but mine's for the heart."

She walked up to him carrying pieces of his heart,
"Please say something, I'm really sorry." She begged.
"What else is there to say? I'm done talking,
what's been done, has been done for the best,
and from now on, you're just one of the rest."

"Reincarnation is not real" I used to say,
You simply cannot come back from the dead,
I didn't believe it until this day,
seeing her standing there blew open my head.

God knows I loved that girl with all my heart;
I loved her for many centuries and I'll love her forever,
even the angels know that nothing can keep us apart.
I met her today in the park, we're entwined to be together.

I lost her many ages ago to her own hand,
her candle burned out by her own knife,
and I understood this world will never be her land,
so all I can do is wait for her in the next life.

She told me I love you then went away,
I couldn't stop her, I never would,
I simply smiled when I met her today,
and I know that although she's gone far away,
I'll see my love another day.

Oh padre mío, ¿Qué ha sido de ti?
Qué te ha hecho la vida,
te miras tan cansado ya,
Con tus ojos tristes llenos de recuerdos.
Veo tus errores marcados en las líneas
de tu frente,
siento en el choque de tu mano
como tiemblan tus huesos,
Tú me abrazas, pero tus brazos ya no tienen fuerza.

Oh padre mío, ¿Qué ha sido de ti?
Te fuiste en un día soleado con tus hombros
amplios y llenos de poder,
-me dejaste sonriendote-,
mientras las lágrimas de mi madre caían sobre mí.
Y ahora has vuelto con tus trapos
empapados con lluvia fría,
tus pies cortados y quemados por los fuegos que has cruzado;
te escucho y me hablas con una voz arrepentida.

Oh padre mío, ¿Qué ha sido de ti?
Mira tus dedos, tu mano izquierda,
donde una vez guardabas ese anillo de aquel amor,
que tanto afirmabas tener por mi madre,
ahora reemplazado por una oración.
El reloj en tu muñeca,
congelado en el tiempo en que te fuiste.
Padre soy tu hijo, mírame padre mío,
que soy tu en el espejo,
te entiendo y siento tu dolor,
Siento tu miseria,
tu tristeza y tu rencor.


Oh padre mío, ¿Qué ha sido de ti?
Han sido diecisiete años,
muchas cosas han pasado desde ayer,
ya no soy el niño que te miraba golpeando a tu propia mujer;
ya no soy el niño que dejaste de querer.
No te odio padre mío,
porque tú y yo somos tan diferentes
y tan iguales a la vez.
Padre yo soy tu hijo,
pero tu no eres mi padre.

Oh father of mine, what has been of you?
What has life done to you,
you seem so tired already,
with your sorrowful eyes filled with memories.
I see your mistakes marked on the lines
of your forehead,
I feel in the touch of your hand
how much your bones tremble;
you hold me but your arms no longer hold strength.

Oh father of mine, what has been of you?
You left on a sunny day with your shoulders
so broad and filled with power,
-you left me smiling-,
while my mother's tears fell on me.
And now you've returned with your rags
soaked with cold rain,
your feet cut and burned by the fires you have crossed,
I hear you speak to me with a repentant voice.

Oh father of mine, what has been of you?
Look at your fingers, your left hand,
where you once guarded that ring of a love,
a love you so claimed to have for my mother.
Now replaced by a prayer.
The watch on your wrist,
frozen on the time that you left,
father I am your son,
look at me father of mine,
for I am you in the mirror,
I understand and feel your pain;
I feel your misery,
your sadness, and your resentment.


Oh father of mine, what has been of you?
It's been seventeen years,
many things have happened since yesterday,
I'm no longer the child that saw you hitting your own wife;
I am no longer the child you ceased loving.
I don't hate you, father of mine,
because you and I are so different
yet so alike.
Father I am your son,
but you are not my father.