Como anillo al dedo…
Por eso me gustan tanto sus letras, me llegan (¿ o será que hoy ando de nenita otra vez?)
Eso no importa… igual me gusta mucho.
Where do we go from here?
How do we carry on?
I can’t get beyond the questions…
Clambering for the scraps
in the shatter of us collapsed.
Is cuts me with every “could have been.”
Pain on pain on play, repeating.
With the backup makeshift life in waiting.
Everybody says
that time heals everything.
But what of the wretched hallow?
The endless in-between?
Are we just going to wait it out…?
There’s nothing to see here now
turning the sign around
We’re closed to the Earth til further notice.
Clambering for the scraps, clambering in the light
We’re closed to the Earth til further…
All-in-one, only one street-level miracle
I’ll be an out-in-out, born-again from none more cynical.
Everybody says
that time heals everything.
But what of the wretched hallow?
The endless in-between?
Are we just going to wait it out…?
…and sit here cold?
Look, you’ll be long gone by then,
and lackluster.
In dust we lay
’round old magazines.
Fluorescent lighting sets the scene
for all we could and should be being
in the one life that we’ve got…
Everybody says
that time heals everything.
But what of the wretched hallow?
The endless in-between?
Are we just going to wait it out?
Sit here cold…
…just going to sweat it out?
Just going to sweat it out?
Wait it out.
