Jueves (en inglés)

Jueves
If I were more beautiful
and a little bit more clever
If I were special, If I were a magazine girl
I'd have the courage of crossing the wagon
and ask you who you are

You sit in front of me and you don't imagine
that I wear for you my most beautiful skirt
And seeing you yawn to the cristal
My pupils get flooded
Suddenly you look at me, I look you and you sigh
I close my eyes, you apart the view
I barely breath, I get little
And I start trembling
And that way the days pass, from Monday to Friday
Like the swallows of the Bécquer poem
From station to station, opposite you and me
The silence goes and comes
Suddenly you look at me, I look you and you sigh
I close my eyes, you apart the view
I barely breath, I get little
And I start trembling
And then happens, my lips wake up
They pronoun your name stamming
I suppose you to think ''What a silly girl''
And I wanna die
But time stops and you bring near saying
''I don't meet you and I allready missed you''
Each morning I reject the direct
And I choose this train

And we are arriving, my life has changed
A special day, this eleventh March
You take my hand, we come to a tunner
That turns the light off
I get your face, thanks to my hands
I get brave and I kiss you in the lips
You say that you love me and I get you
The last breathe of my heart
In this heartfelt song by La Oreja De Van Gogh, titled 'Jueves' (Thursday in English), the lyrics tell a poignant tale of unrequited love and longing. The protagonist laments not being more beautiful or clever, feeling invisible to the object of their desire...