-¿A dónde vas guapo?
-A Phoenix.
-¿A buscar qué?
-De consumist freak, ¿a qué otra cosa?
-No te hagas, vas a buscar el amor.
-¿Es una broma?
-No. Hablo en serio.
-Pues que naco. Deja ese lenguaje para los poetas, que de seguro les hace falta un recurso tan original como ese.
-Los poetas solo necesitan un atardecer...
-Alcohol, droga, tiempo, pero sobre todo talento, supongo.
-¿A qué le tienes miedo?
-Al mal gusto...
...que turbia el agua.
1 comentario:
CRYSTAL FRONTIER
Marco's shadow falls on the door
To the 7 lost cities of gold
Finds a raven's head and rattlersnake's tail
Dead in his tracks, this godforsaken soul's
Unwanted here and his soul lingers for years
Amalia's face hides behind the mask
Sweating on the tv factory line
That smile on her face is starting to crack
While welding back the pieces of shattered heart
That's scattered out here, with the ghosts of her peers
Searches for her lost child along the river of tears
At the end of the working week
When drunken worlds meet
Both sides keeping a close eye
For a break in the line here...
On the crystal frontier
Blood spills out on the streets
And bodies are missing for weeks
Both sides keeping a close eye
Watching the bullets fly here...
On the crystal frontier
Ramón tightens up his leather belt
And slips through a hole in the fence
He can get you anything you want
Might cost you a life, might cost you
The whole price of freedom here...
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