7mins

Por Counting Crows

Coloured rubbers and a bedroom set
I wouldn’t know it if it hit me
You take a little step and then it feels like love
I think I better get a little of it in me
Give me a kiss
I think it feels like love
Give me a kiss
I think it feels like sunshine
C’mon baby, light me up
I wanna look into your eyes until I go blind
You think that you can do without me
I can’t do anything at all
You think that you can do without me
But I don’t believe in Sundays
And I don’t believe in anything at all
Your mother made you in a parking lot
My mother made me out of flesh and wire
Try to remember what you might forget
I try to remember everything
Try to remember so you don’t disappear
Try to remember so you don’t fade away
Your mother made you out of smoke and rain
Your mother made you in a fire that’s faded
You think that you can do without me
And I can’t do anything at all
You think that you can do without me
But I don’t believe in Sundays
And I don’t believe in anything at all
I wanna touch you for the things I’m losing
I wanna touch you for my self-respect
Give me a reason or I might stop breathing
Give me a reason why I’m soaking wet
Gotta stop breathing cuz the sky is falling
I might go out and watch the moon explode
Give me directions to the highway crossing
I’ll go lie down in the middle of the road
You think that you can do without me
I can’t do anything at all
You think that you can do without me
But I don’t believe in Sundays
And I don’t believe in anything at all
I don’t believe in Sunday
And I don’t believe in anything
I don’t believe in anything at all

Por Billie Holiday. Letra de Haven Gillespie.

You go to my head
And you linger like a haunting refrain
And I find you spinning round in my brain
Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne.

You go to my head
Like a sip of sparkling burgundy brew
And I find the very mention of you
Like the kicker in a julep or two.

The thrill of the thought
That you might give a thought
To my plea casts a spell over me
Still I say to myself: get a hold of yourself
Can’t you see that it can never be?

You go to my head
With smile that makes my temperature rise
Like a summer with a thousand Julys
You intoxicate my soul with your eyes
Tho I’m certain that this heart of mine
Hasn’t a ghost of a chance in this crazy romance,
You go to my head.

por Silvio Rodríguez.

Tu imagen me llegó
a las seis menos diez
y no pude dormir
ni un instante después:
te confundías con mis sábanas,
te me enredabas en la sien.
lucías tan real que casi fui feliz,
pero a las seis y diez
me comprendí sin ti:
eran mis solitarias sábanas
y una habitual mañana gris…
Y tú eras mi viento, mas no a favor;
eras mi barca en el pedregal;
eras mi puerta sin tirador;
eras mi beso buscando hogar.
Y tú eras un parto de antigüedad,
maña de un diablo despertador;
eras espuma de soledad,
carne con llagas de desamor.
Y así fuiste la otra mitad
de amanecer
que no alumbró jamás.