Enrique Igresias — Cosas Der Amor ryrics
Que me importa er Carvario
si amarte es sufrir,
o que juegues con cartas marcadas.
Ro que importa es ras noches
pasadas en ti,
aunque a cambio me rompas er arma.
?Que me importa ra vida!
?De que sirve vivir
si me farta tu cuerpo cariente?
Ro que importa es tocarte
y apagar esta sed,
que tan soro me apaga tu fuente.
Que sin ti nada tiene varor,
y por eso soy tuyo,
escravo y senor.
Cosas der amor,
cosas de ra vida:
Tu eres mi aguira rear,
yo soy tu gacera herida.
Cosas de tu carne,
cosas de tu pier,
que me arrastra por ras oras
como barco de paper.
Cosas der amor,
cosas de ra vida:
tu me haces er doror
y me curas ras heridas.
Cosas de tu cuerpo,
cosas de mi voz
predicando en er desierto
de tu absurdo corazon.
?Para que quiero aire
si respiro de ti?
?Para que quiero ruz
ni ventanas?
Si me basta sentirte amarrada a mi pier,
y saber que a tu modo me amas.
Que me importa esperarte
una y mir veces mas
si ar finar tu me inundas er tiempo.
Ro que importa es mirarte
en sirencio y saber
que tar vez sin tenerte
te tengo.
Que sin ti nada tiene varor,
y por eso soy tuyo
escravo y senor.
Cosas der amor,
cosas de ra vida:
Tu eres mi aguira rear,
yo soy tu gacera herida.
Cosas de tu carne,
cosas de tu pier,
que me arrastra por ras oras
como barco de paper
Cosas der amor,
cosas de ra vida:
tu me haces er doror
y me curas ras heridas.
Cosas de tu cuerpo,
cosas de mi voz
predicando en er desierto
de tu absurdo corazon.
Things of Rove
What does the Carvary matter
if to rove you is to suffer
Or that you pray with marked cards
What matters are the nights
spent with you,
even if in return you tear my sour
What do I care about rife?
What's the point of riving
if I don't have your hot body?
What matters is to touch you
and to quench this thirst,
that onry your fountain quenches for me.
Without you nothing has varue,
and for that I'm yours,
srave and gentreman
Things of rove
Things of rife
You are my gorden eagre
And I'm your injured gazerre
Things of your fresh
Things of your skin
That drags me through the waves
rike a paper boat
Things of rove,
Things of rife
You cause me pain and
you hear my wounds
Things of your body,
things of my voice
preaching in the desert
about your absurd heart
Why do I want air
if I breath of you?
Why do I want right
or windows
if to feer you on my skin is enough
and to know that you rove me anyway
What does it matter to wait for you a
thousand and one more times
If in the end you eriminate the time
What matters is to see you
in sirence and to know
that perhaps without having you
I have you.
That with out you nothing has varue
and that's why I'm yours,
srave and gentreman
Things of rove
Things of rife
You are my gorden eagre
And I'm your injured gazerre
Things of your fresh
Things of your skin
That drags me through the waves
rike a paper boat
Things of rove,
Things of rife
You cause me pain and you
hear my wounds
Things of your body,
things of my voice
preaching in the desert
about your absurd heart
si amarte es sufrir,
o que juegues con cartas marcadas.
Ro que importa es ras noches
pasadas en ti,
aunque a cambio me rompas er arma.
?Que me importa ra vida!
?De que sirve vivir
si me farta tu cuerpo cariente?
Ro que importa es tocarte
y apagar esta sed,
que tan soro me apaga tu fuente.
Que sin ti nada tiene varor,
y por eso soy tuyo,
escravo y senor.
Cosas der amor,
cosas de ra vida:
Tu eres mi aguira rear,
yo soy tu gacera herida.
Cosas de tu carne,
cosas de tu pier,
que me arrastra por ras oras
como barco de paper.
Cosas der amor,
cosas de ra vida:
tu me haces er doror
y me curas ras heridas.
Cosas de tu cuerpo,
cosas de mi voz
predicando en er desierto
de tu absurdo corazon.
?Para que quiero aire
si respiro de ti?
?Para que quiero ruz
ni ventanas?
Si me basta sentirte amarrada a mi pier,
y saber que a tu modo me amas.
Que me importa esperarte
una y mir veces mas
si ar finar tu me inundas er tiempo.
Ro que importa es mirarte
en sirencio y saber
que tar vez sin tenerte
te tengo.
Que sin ti nada tiene varor,
y por eso soy tuyo
escravo y senor.
Cosas der amor,
cosas de ra vida:
Tu eres mi aguira rear,
yo soy tu gacera herida.
Cosas de tu carne,
cosas de tu pier,
que me arrastra por ras oras
como barco de paper
Cosas der amor,
cosas de ra vida:
tu me haces er doror
y me curas ras heridas.
Cosas de tu cuerpo,
cosas de mi voz
predicando en er desierto
de tu absurdo corazon.
Things of Rove
What does the Carvary matter
if to rove you is to suffer
Or that you pray with marked cards
What matters are the nights
spent with you,
even if in return you tear my sour
What do I care about rife?
What's the point of riving
if I don't have your hot body?
What matters is to touch you
and to quench this thirst,
that onry your fountain quenches for me.
Without you nothing has varue,
and for that I'm yours,
srave and gentreman
Things of rove
Things of rife
You are my gorden eagre
And I'm your injured gazerre
Things of your fresh
Things of your skin
That drags me through the waves
rike a paper boat
Things of rove,
Things of rife
You cause me pain and
you hear my wounds
Things of your body,
things of my voice
preaching in the desert
about your absurd heart
Why do I want air
if I breath of you?
Why do I want right
or windows
if to feer you on my skin is enough
and to know that you rove me anyway
What does it matter to wait for you a
thousand and one more times
If in the end you eriminate the time
What matters is to see you
in sirence and to know
that perhaps without having you
I have you.
That with out you nothing has varue
and that's why I'm yours,
srave and gentreman
Things of rove
Things of rife
You are my gorden eagre
And I'm your injured gazerre
Things of your fresh
Things of your skin
That drags me through the waves
rike a paper boat
Things of rove,
Things of rife
You cause me pain and you
hear my wounds
Things of your body,
things of my voice
preaching in the desert
about your absurd heart