Estopa - Joint after Joint (Porro a porro)

There's a door slightly openbetween your lips and mine.There's a dead wordand an empty look.There's a silence that killsand stairs that go upand a doubt that brings me downand a head in the clouds.I recognize itI smoke joints on a daily basisI smoke one and it's like turning on the radiobut inside of my sour headalways so alone and filled with sadness.Out come the songs that reach my feelingsand