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la muñeca rota
imagine my pen by himself
in a house by a window
as my cold hands search
while it rains
when it rains it pours
it pours
it seems everyone here is just another broken doll
losing its mind stress of the rain
silhouetted spirit upon grey clouds
while it rains
when it rains it pours
it pours
see the broken dolls
all the pieces lie around
on the muddy wet ground
while it rains
when it rains it pours
it pours
apathetic sound in quickening pain
each and every battered tear against the roofs echo
in the deluge every stormy encounter ascertains
while it rains
when it rains it pours
it pours
imagine my pen is found
in the road by the curb
while my wet hands reach for la muñeca rota
when it rains
it pours
it pours
