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La mia foto
Un hombre en las viñas hablò, en agonía, al oido de Marcela. Antes de morir, le revelò su secreto: -La uva-le susurrò-està hecha de vino. Marcela Pèrez Silva me lo contò y yo pensè: Si la uva està hecha de vino quizà nosotros somos la palabra que cuenta lo que somos. El libro de los Abrazos(Eduardo Galeano)

lunedì 19 marzo 2012

Para.

Déjalo ya porque...  
estaba equivocada. Quien no sabe de respeto no sabe de amor. 







Walk don't run, don't let them know that you're all alone
'cause they'll chase you and throw you stones
just for fun, from-behind bastards.

Here's a feather, I got it from a crow
put it on your mesh hat, I know you like to wear black.
Make it straight to the nearest phone and call me 
did you keep my number zombie?)

'Cause I've been there before and I know what you're made of,
you call her a bitch but you wish she was right here.

Tell me about how she played you like a fool, like a rookie
how you've never put your trust in anyone before 
and how you're never gonna do it again
then if you make sure that there's no one around, 
I'll tell you a secret, baby
you're right, she was the one and she's never gonna come back, 
she's gone
and now you wish SHE WAS dead 
or at least you could fuck your brains out
'cause there's nowhere in the world 
you'll stop thinking about her.