Just seven will never be enough, nor
seventy or even seven hundred thousand.
It's an insult for how many words I want to say, how many are the grains of sand?
Just fourteen stops before I go?
Frankly, that's quite generous.
Twelve disciples?
All I need is you.
Just ten commandments by my father?
Honestly, for you I'd write them better.
Eight days until my rebirth and our reunion?
Painstakingly, that's quite a wait.
Just three falls going to my death?
Mercilessly, make it a hundred.
Just two nails to pin me down?
Respectfully, make it a thousand.
Just one cross?
Please, I demand millions.
Just one life will never be enough, nor
ten or even a millenia to hold your hand.
It's an offense, really, because how much rain do you think can the sea withstand?
No me hables de números y estadísticas.
Tengo palabras ilimitadas para combinarlas.
"Semana Santa Sadgirl Series": no. 12