| Rain comes; delivered in the city, wash the feet of the angels at play, | |
| Waters graced with garlands of roses, Concha y Toro the fountains cry. | |
| I play the Prince; you play Ophelia, tragedies dance in the light of your eyes, | |
| Sauvignon Blanc toasting the sunset and a life in a tomb under a ceiling of stars. | |
| We lay back and gazed at the stars. | |
| Shadows crawl under the crater walls, Santiago, the Chilean dawn, | |
| High on dreams you feel you can touch the sky, | |
| I did believe that you could fly. | |
| All I could offer was miles de besos, | |
| A heart full of hope and the wings of a prayer, | |
| Storms gather high in the mountains, | |
| Somehow I know that you'll never arrive, | |
| You'll never fly | |
| You'll never fly | |
| All I could offer was miles de besos, | |
| A heart full of hope and the wings of a prayer, | |
| Storms gather high in the mountains, | |
| Somehow I know that you'll never arrive, | |
| You'll never fly | |
| You'll never fly | |
| Miles de besos | |
| Did you think that it meant nothing to me, | |
| that when you disappeared I could walk away? | |
| Did you know that you broke my heart and left a scar that never fades away. | |
| Miles de besos. |
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