I don't wanna grow up

El mejor alegato que he escuchado a favor del Peter Pan que todos llevamos dentro ( y sí, me gusta mucho más la versión de Ramones que la original de Tom Waits).

La sed insaciable

Decir adiós... La vida es eso.

Y yo te digo adiós, y sigo...
Volver a amar es el castigo
de los que amaron con exceso.
Amar y amar toda la vida,
y arder y arder en esa llama.
Y no saber por qué se ama...
Y no saber por qué se olvida...
Coger las rosas una a una,
beber un vino y otro vino,
y andar y andar por un camino
que no conduce a parte alguna.

Sentir más sed en cada fuente
y ver más sombra en cada abismo,
en este amor que es siempre el mismo,
pero que siempre es diferente.

Porque en el sordo desacuerdo
de lo soñado y lo vivido,
siempre, del fondo del olvido,
nace la muerte de un recuerdo.
Y en esta angustia que no cesa,
que toca el alma y no la toca,
besar la sombra de otra boca
en cada boca que se besa...

Lou Reed - Dirty Blvd.

Uno de mis temas favoritos desde siempre. Soy poco conocedor de la obra de Lou Reed, he escuchado a la Velvet de pasada, pero no me ha enganchado. En cambio este disco me encanta, y este tema más.




Pedro lives out of the Wilshire Hotel

He looks out a window without glass

And the walls are made of cardboard, newspapers on his feet

And his father beats him 'cause he's too tired to beg




He's got 9 brothers and sisters

They're brought up on their knees

It's hard to run when a coat hanger beats you on the thighs

Pedro dreams of being older and killing the old man

But that's a slim chance

He's going to the boulevard




He's gonna end up on the dirty boulevard

He's going out to the dirty boulevard

He's going down to the dirty boulevard




This room cost $2,000 a month

You can believe it, man, it's true

Somewhere there's a landlord's laughing till he wets his pants

No one dreams of being a doctor or a lawyer or anything

They dream of dealing on the dirty boulevard




Give me your hungry, your tired, your poor I'll piss on 'em

That's what the Statue of Bigotry says

Your poor huddled masses

Let's club 'em to death

And get it over with and just dump 'em on the boulevard




Get 'em out on the dirty boulevard

Goin' out to the dirty boulevard

They're going down on the dirty boulevard

Goin' out




Outside it's a bright night

There's an opera at Lincoln Center

Movie stars arrive by limousine

The klieg lights shoot up over the skyline of Manhattan

But the lights are out on the mean streets




A small kid stands by the Lincoln Tunnel

He's selling plastic roses for a buck

The traffic's backed up to 39th Street

The TV whores are calling the cops out for a suck




And back at the Wilshire, Pedro sits there dreaming

He's found a book on Magic in a garbage can

He looks at the pictures

And stares up at the cracked ceiling

"At the count of 3," he says,

"I hope I can disappear."




And fly, fly away from this dirty boulevard

I want to fly from the dirty boulevard

I want to fly from the dirty boulevard

I want to fly-fly-fly-fly from the dirty boulevard




I want to fly away

I want to fly

Fly, fly away

I want to fly

Fly, fly away

Fly, fly away

Fly, fly away

Fly, fly away

I want to fly