1977. Buenos Aires. It was
the summer season.
The night that we went to
dine, dance and drink
Cupid had done his job.
Several days after
When she came to my
apartment
And left a note under my
door
I knew it was the right
time for love.
I ran to her apartment
It was almost midnight
Cupid´s enemy did not let
me in
Neither allowed me talk to
her by intercom.
At last, when she took me
to the airport
Ezeiza witnessed the tears
that I did not see
Tears that could have
changed our history.
Then, we took different
roads
Roads that never have
crossed again
Despite all my attempts.
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