Habla, opina, critica, platica, conversa, dialoga... tod@s somos bienvenid@s...

sábado, 17 de septiembre de 2011

Child come away



"Child come away
it's the girl with the deputy walking by
child go and play
no i won't give you reasons so don't ask why
I read the story about a week ago
they found her on the beach that night
they thought the light had gone out of her eyes
and no-one thinks she'll ever be right
she was so full of her life
happy with the people she knew
but then no-one can tell
Child come away
it's the girl with the deputy walking by
child go and play
no i won't give you reasons so don't ask why
Guess all they found were some marks in the sand
a message saying 'she is mine'
nobody touched her as she got in the car
well nobody dares to anytime
she was so full of her life
the girl that everybody once knew
but now no-one can tell
Child come away
it's the girl with the deputy walking by
child go and play
no i won't give you reasons so don't ask why
And when they read a story out to the judge
i heard they had to turn away
it's all over town
I saw her face in the back of a car
as they were speeding out of town
she's got a mark on the side of her face
that no-one's ever seen around
and what she is or what she's become
i guess the town will never know
Child come away
it's the girl with the deputy walking by
child go and play
no i won't give you reasons so don't ask why"

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"Salió de trabajar y respiró el aire fresco de la noche, notando como se le llenaban los pulmones de serenidad, de paz sin temores o sermones, de luz, fuerza y calor...

Salió con pasos lentos y decididos, pasos meditados pero no pensados, pasos silenciosos y callados, mientras en su cabeza lucían imágenes de tiempos atrás, de tiempos sin problemas, de tiempos de sonrisas, de luces, de colores, de planes..., de tiempos que parecían lejanos y casi olvidados.

Salió soñando que le salían unas grandes alas blancas en la espalda y que, sin importarle nada (era mejor envíarlo todo al carajo), iniciaba un alto vuelo sin rumbo fijo ni decidido, sin dar explicaciones a nadie y ser tan sólo un puntito brillante en la lejanía del firmamento...

Salió como cada día, pero nada era ya igual, todo había cambiado, de un bofetón había madurado, se había arriesgado y todo se había malogrado. Pero, en el fondo, daba igual.

Salió y respiro de forma profunda y estudiada, miró al cielo y, con un gesto feo de uno de sus dedos de las manos..., lo mandó todo, todo, todo al puto carajo".

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