I'll be able to look at you through that glass
Greet each other in another way
Without fear of breathing
I'll be able to hug you with the urge to forget
That a door separates us
To wake up, this night that is real
That the magic of flying has been taken from us by freedom
And to think that this dream isn't real
That this dream isn't real
And now Madrid dresses as a ghost
At eight the networks go down, the terraces fill up
And now I learned why we have to sweep at home
Because the best song doesn't understand walls
It doesn't understand walls
I'll be able to lean out at that bar's corner
Another round for the usual ones that don't let me pay
From pint to tapa, napkin in another bar
And let the crown tremble seeing us savor
Wake up, that night was real
That the urge to fly was taken from us by freedom
And to think that that dream was real
And now Madrid dresses as a ghost
At eight the networks go down, the terraces fill up
And now I learned why we have to sweep at home
Because the best song doesn't understand walls
And now Madrid gets thrilled in another square
At eight the sun comes out, the terraces fill up
And now I learned why we have to sweep at home
Because the best song doesn't understand walls
It doesn't understand walls
It doesn't understand battles
It doesn't understand battles