Buenos noches, Senor. I want you tonight. I'm all alone in my bed looking up at the moon. I hear a train whistle. Will you be here soon? Your face is a canvas painted in flashing laser light colors. Your voice is so soothing, whispering words of love in my ear. Oh dear God, I just want him here. It all seems so delicate, like fine threads in a web, weaving themselves in and out of our heads. Silk stockings and sweet gardenia candles flickering out a dim light. I cant stand it much longer. Please crawl in my window tonight. This whole thing feels awful because you're not free. Mi esperanza is just to have you. Confusion and pain are nothing new. Buenos noches, senor, I'm here, can't you see? I'm ready for you to come to me. I'll accept any term. What will be, will be.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
Buenos noches, Senor. I want you tonight. I'm all alone in my bed looking up at the moon. I hear a train whistle. Will you be here soon? Your face is a canvas painted in flashing laser light colors. Your voice is so soothing, whispering words of love in my ear. Oh dear God, I just want him here. It all seems so delicate, like fine threads in a web, weaving themselves in and out of our heads. Silk stockings and sweet gardenia candles flickering out a dim light. I cant stand it much longer. Please crawl in my window tonight. This whole thing feels awful because you're not free. Mi esperanza is just to have you. Confusion and pain are nothing new. Buenos noches, senor, I'm here, can't you see? I'm ready for you to come to me. I'll accept any term. What will be, will be.