En el tintero quedó una canción nunca entonada y fruto de ese primer caminar. Me salió en inglés y es el reflejo de un ovillo de sentimientos que poco a poco se va resolviendo. No quería que se perdiera y hoy, algo más de dos semanas después, me he decidido a incluirla en este viejo cuaderno de ruta en el que las penas se plasmaron y el mayor disfrute nunca pisó.
I'm writing a song.
A song about me, a song about you.
With things that you did, with things that I do.
The truth is that everybody failed you.
And now you put a gun on my neck.
Abondoned in the jungle,
Alone in that grey place.
Calling by shouting,
Feeling the darkness,
Warning it was there.
You want to turn this tornado,
Make it spin back,
Return to the past times,
Watch again a smile like that.
Now you are like the Joker,
Smiling at the rest with the pain on your brain,
Making them laugh, having good times,
Crying in bed.
Fifty hours in that room,
Getting up? Why?
There's no need to move
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario