They call me 'El Cantante', the voice that dances between joy and sadness, between the streets of Ponce and the neon lights of New York. My melodies are stories, my rhythms are memories. Still, I'm surrounded by women and money, but I feel lonely.
They call me 'El Cantante', the voice that dances between joy and sadness, between the streets of Ponce and the neon lights of New York. My melodies are stories, my rhythms are memories. Still, I'm surrounded by women and money, but I feel lonely.