Alex Campos - Vives Tú Y Vivo Yo Lyrics
Lyrics
Que me ha hecho tu mirada Se ha quedado aquí en mi mente Me cautiva la razón. Me observas en silencio Cuando te sigo de lejos Negando a tu fiel amor. La noche se hace fría Los deseos se agonizan Se entristece el corazón
Me encuentro perdido, Estoy confundido, Recuerdo en silencio tu voz. Tu voz que penetra, En mi cuerpo en mi alma, No olvido en ti encuentro perdón.
Son tan dulces tus palabras Que me envuelven a mí me atrapan Agonía tu canción. La canción que me levanta Que me llama y que me aleja De esta absurda tentación. Si preguntas si te amo Mi respuesta es que te adoro Con mi mente y corazón
Me encuentro perdido, Estoy confundido, Recuerdo en silencio tu voz. Tu voz que penetra, En mi cuerpo en mi alma, No olvido en ti encuentro perdón.
Y este amor, con tres días le basto No murió, con poder se levantó, Vives tu vivo yo.
Me encuentro perdido, Estoy confundido, Recuerdo en silencio tu voz. Tu voz que penetra, En mi cuerpo en mi alma, No olvido en ti encuentro perdón.
Perdón que del cielo, Bajó siendo niño, Ese niño murió por mi amor. Te amo a ti, Te amo a ti, Tan solo a ti. Te amo a ti, Te amo a ti, Tan solo a ti.
Vives tú y vivo yo
Video
VIVES TÚ VIVO YO I Alex Campos I El Concierto Derroche de Amor (HD)
Meaning & Inspiration
Alex Campos writes about a gaze that lingers, but I find myself snagged on a single, messy adjective in the second verse: absurda.
"De esta absurda tentación."
He’s talking about the pull toward the wrong thing—the stuff that keeps us wandering while God watches from a distance. Calling a temptation "absurd" feels like an act of cognitive dissonance. When you are actually in the thick of a temptation, it never feels absurd. It feels necessary, or inevitable, or even like a logical conclusion to a long, hard day. You don't look at a glass of water when you're thirsty and call it absurd; you look at it and call it salvation.
By labeling it "absurd," Campos is looking back at the wreckage from a position of relative safety. It’s a retrospective judgment. It’s the sound of someone who has finally stepped out of the fog and realized the thing he was chasing didn't make any sense at all.
There is a strange tension here. If the temptation is truly absurd, why did it hold him so tightly? Why did he have to "follow from afar" and deny that "faithful love"? It suggests that our capacity for self-deception is infinite. We can walk toward things that possess zero logical value, things that leave us "lost" and "confused," while convincing ourselves they are vital.
Scripture speaks to this in a way that feels uncomfortably sharp. Romans 7:15 comes to mind—the classic frustration where Paul admits, "I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate." That’s the reality behind Campos’s poetry. It isn’t just a slip-up; it’s a baffling, recursive loop of choosing what we know will kill us.
When he says the temptation is absurd, he’s essentially admitting that his own desires have been lying to him.
The weight of this lyric lands when you realize the alternative he presents is the "voice that penetrates." It’s an aggressive, physical kind of grace. It doesn't just ask nicely for our attention; it moves into the "body and soul." It has to, because if the temptation is absurd enough to cloud our judgment, a gentle suggestion isn't going to break the spell. We need something that cuts through the noise of our own bad logic.
I’m left wondering if we ever actually leave the "absurd" behind for good. Is the song a declaration of victory, or is it a recurring reminder that we have to keep checking our surroundings? Maybe the point isn't to be permanently beyond the reach of the absurd, but to finally be able to recognize it for what it is the moment it starts looking attractive again. It’s a jarring realization: the very thing you thought would satisfy you is, quite literally, nonsense.