| Don't take the sand from me
|
| of these shoes
|
| Because this sand is from the Albarrosa beach
|
| let the shoes die
|
| With the swaying of the waves
|
| And how spring dies
|
| Oh! |
| How much light do their shells
|
| nooo! |
| take the sand out of these shoes
|
| Because this sand is from the Albarrosa beach
|
| think about it, think about it
|
| if you want dream
|
| But please
|
| Do not entertain my heart
|
| He is dying of grief. (bis)
|
| Ouch! |
| let the afternoon fall
|
| Let the evening fall
|
| And finally we can love each other
|
| kiss and touch
|
| Without haste and without pause
|
| you have such a nice body
|
| That even your mirror is recreated
|
| And who could be the little dress
|
| cotton, linen, silk
|
| And the important thing is to touch your little body
|
| If the afternoon and the wind and
|
| The desire agrees love!
|
| and leave us
|
| He put in the fardiquera he put
|
| In the fardiquera
|
| There are two copper coins
|
| By the way I don't have
|
| I don't get to buy you
|
| what my girl wants
|
| And how difficult it is to love you
|
| And that I put on my side
|
| It is more difficult to hate you
|
| When not a moment has passed
|
| And in that I have not stopped loving you.
|
| If she wants a nice dream
|
| when i fall asleep
|
| Come on get on my bed
|
| And she gives me two little kisses
|
| Oh! |
| my love oh! |
| love.
|
| And he has no greater punishment
|
| It has no greater punishment
|
| Than be dreaming of another
|
| and sleeping with me
|
| (For you, Don Manuel)
|
| Manuel Molina, Manuel Molina
|
| I trace myself in the truths
|
| And truths are doctrines
|
| There are no universities
|
| The lesson is given by Triana
|
| Sunken and over the years
|
| Your beard and your long hair
|
| And your trusty old guitar
|
| Oh! |
| Seville, Seville, Seville
|
| Sleep peacefully through your streets and your corners
|
| that a lullaby is singing
|
| Don Manuel Mr. Molina (bis)
|
| In case God gave me the gift
|
| Or the chance to reincarnate in another life
|
| I would like to be olive tree
|
| To remain the captive
|
| From old Andalusia. |