Una sonata fantasma [English translation]

It strikes six o'clock,

frames, cups, coffee,

haze in the television,

feet feeling cold.

Ten, two, a hundred,

moondust wisps

cross the blind,

non stopping

its ballet.

It won't come back,

it never left.

Every memory will be

a deserter,

maybe a mistake.

Every wall, a waltz,

a ghost Sonata.

Every spiral,

in every clock...

...sleeps a tremble...

It strikes six o'clock already,

the coffee got cold.

The moondust brings to us

the last transmission:

For a second she was

the queen of the recital,

dressed up again in the silver

that the time knit for her.

And the curtain opened,

challenging the final part,

and in that gap of light

she dances again,

she dances again,

she dances again,

she dances again.

• Artist:Vetusta Morla
• Album:La deriva