My mind staggers over recuerdos,
each memory a shot of nostalgia neat,
stumbling on the sidewalk cracks of old conversaciones,
spilling secretos across the rug of my consciousness.

I'm drunk in thoughts of you,
twisting the corkscrew of what-ifs,
uncorking botellas of maybes we never got to beber,
our laughter rising like bubbles,
toasting madrugada whispers of nights we held close.

Aquí, cada momento es una cantina.
My head rides the corriente,
stories we left medio contado,
dizzy with the burbujeo of...