Break... break... break... break... break...
break... break... break... break... break... break...
I'm breaking away from you.
Open your hands and show me what your holding,
Is it an emerald, or is it a pearl?
What other information are you beholding?
You're such a funny girl.
Where is your mother, where did she go to?
Was your father a sailor or a thief?
Who were your brothers,
where did they came from?
I'd wish you'd tell me about them at least.
But you're so silent, you're so gentle,
I think my brain will go.
This town's your town, yeah,
this room's your temple.
And now you know what I have to go.
That's what it takes to love you.
That's what it takes to love you too.
That's what it takes to hate you too.
So I'll just wanna go.
Break... break... break... break... break...
break... break... break... break... break... break...
I'm breaking away from you.
Don't give me words with no meanings,
Don't give me problems that you can't solve.
Ha! Don't tell me now you're revealing
things we spoke of long ago.
I know your ways, I know you're silence,
This could go on all day.
This is the way this is the violence,
And now you know why I can't stay.
That's what it takes to love you.
That's what it takes to love you too.
That's what it takes to hate you too.
Break... break... break... break... break... break... break...
break... break... break... break...
I'm breaking away from you.
2 comentarios:
No abro mi mano, entre mis líneas originarias no hay nada. Abro mi carne, una llave, una puerta abierta a un hombre que se asoma, no quiere entrar, me da un beso, su sexo, una flor y esta canción. Lo esperé bajo la parra, bajo la sombra de la parra en primavera, bajo la jaula de las perras, de los días, de las bestias.
A veces lloro cuando escucho esta canción. Mi carne aún no cicatrizó. De todos modos, Algo lindo me dejó.
Un abrazo, tus clases me devuelven a la existencia...
Algo: Conmovedor, gracias.
Las clases, los encuentros con un otro, abrir la mano aunque esté vacía son puentes, transportes posibles, excusas. La existencia está ahí, animarse a sumergirse en ella es siempre un movimiento personal. (Y mierda si da miedo, es abismal, puede costar llorar siete o diez horas diarias... pero si no ¿qué?, ¿sentarse a verla pasar?, eso no ha de ser menos doloroso si se es medianamente sensible.) Un abrazo.
Publicar un comentario