Warm up the heart, cool the wine,
recite a few verses, light a cigarette,
turn off all the light, take great care,
smarten up your clothes, look at yourself in the mirror.
Comb your hair like then, like back in those days,
burst the pimple by the lip, sigh,
sip and look through the open balcony,
you can even hum any bolero.
Turn on the Tv, perhaps they're showing
some old movie with Baccal and Bogart,
look at the time once again, walk down the hallway,
check that in the kitchen that faucet is still leaking.
Open the fridge and eat anything,
lie down the bed, bite the pillow, cry,
curse, blaspheme, scream if you want,
but never ever, don't pick up that damned phone.