De las raras ocasiones en las que tengo la letra antes que la música.

If you could trace your life
Way back to the first day
Sort everything again
By shape, rhythm and theme.

Compare all flower colours
On may the 21st.
The times you’ve said goodbye
And never met again.

Feel life as it comes in
As whirls of moisture silk
Like feathers through the snow

cho:
I only try to fit
The corners of my skin
And as I live within

I live the life in you

If you could trace your life
Way back to the first day
Sort everything again
By shape, rhythm and theme.

Maybe you’d find patterns
In kisses and in tears,
And all the hidden clues
That’s you where you live in.

Keep the sound
Strike the match
Keep the sound

Voices calling black or white,
Same old game throughout my life.
Doesn’t care who wins the match,
They’re always back to shut the heart.

Head is always telling things
About how or when or why I’m here.
Head is always asking questions,
And I try so hard to make it quit.

Cho: they’re always talking
They’re always playing their games.

Face in face out,
This land keeps no justice
For the helpless man
No matter how harmless he’d been.

Cho:
Fool, fool,
This place ain’t for you.
Mankind is always to blame
When it comes to a matter of pride.
Fool, fool you fool,
Your fate will be cruel.
Naivety shows no defence
When love’s been your major offence.

Day in, day out,
Gone mad in this weather
The crawling hate endures
In the heart of the stranger.

Cho:
Fool, fool.
There’s nowhere to hide.
You stole the prey from the beast
And now you will pay with your life…

The loneliest island
Is no hiding place,
When fate is waiting
To stab you in the face.

A Saturna.

Got my head all stuck in puzzles,
Tryin’ to solve just makes me worry
All night without sleeping,
Wake up late; waste my time in daydreaming.

I’ve lost my head just thinking,
Squeezing out my brain.
And I’ve lived my life out of ideas
That I thought I invented my self.

Cho:
Head like an apple,
Heart like a mirror,
Sex like an arrow,
Head like an apple.

Some may say it’s the mood for Sundays,
Watching hours go as I’m hanging.
My skin, is it greenish?
Who would dare to say I’m nothing but lazy.

Marley, Sade, Coltrane
Help me get through the day to day basis
Of urban activity,
Search of grace and the struggle with gravity.

Cho:
Head like an apple,
Heart like a mirror,
Sex like an arrow,
Head like an apple falling on Sir Isaac’s head.

Oh I dream all night in algorithms,
Mix all down with Afro rhythms,
My mind is my DJ,
Non-stop show as endorphin pumping.

Computer session early morning,
Try to recall the late night ravin’
My god! Is it breathing?
Flat screen smiles, gives me funny look readings.

I used to believe to be the master
But now I’m not so sure.

This is the secret life of the apple.

You keep me from hating,
You keep me from hesitating.
You keep me from selling out my soul to a loveless world.
You keep me from selling out my soul to a loveless world.

Cho:
We will be kings of stars,
Of worlds that they’ll never recognise.
We will be kings of stars
And finally…

You will protect heavens from falling down,
And in desperation
The empire will try to hunt me,
But you’ll always be there.

Cho:
We will be kings of stars,
Of worlds that they’ll never recognise.
We will be kings of stars
And finally we’ll be home again.

Me encontré con que mis capacidades guitarrísticas no me daban para lo que quería y Mariano accedió amablemente a prestarme su talento.

Guitarra Acústica: Mariano Spíndola.
Coros: Jimena Torre
Sampleos de Ginesa Ortega y Sound Design de MCO Studios.

I’ve been standing on the shore for too long,
I’ve been staring at the ocean too long.
Maybe I’m crazy as can be,
Maybe this sea was getting into me
‘Till I understood I want to be in you.

Cho:
your love is a slow wave
Sinking me softly,
Your love is a slow tide
Drowning me.
Your infinite embrace
Keeps pulling me deeper
Your love is a slow wave
Drowning me.

I’ve been buried in the sand for too long,
Building castles in the beach for too long.
Then came the storm,
Nowhere to go
But to reach the hidden life that lies in you.

Oh I’m letting go.

Came to earth as strange fruits
The day we are born.
Greeted by the air,
Nothing but ideas in the people’s mind.

The arms are warm, the milk is sweet.
Nature has the power to let us die or let us survive.
We will inherit the spark that first made
Our neolithical ancestors go mad in the conscience of their mind.

Cho:
I need this song to be soft as the clouds in the morning sky,
I need this heart to be alive to sing it right.
I need this song; I need your love.

We’ll watch the birds, hold the car,
Get a bite from the dog and wonder
In this desperate need to understand
What turns a boy in a man.

And so well stare, fill the blanks right,
Attend to school; learn your lines fast,
Until we realise we don’t understand,
But we fought so hard!
And those lessons in life
Don’t seep to apply.

I’ll give up and live…

Such a happy feeling!
To get caught up with you in this planet.
What a lucky chance!
To have these magnificent eyes just to look at you tonight.

Cho:
Ooh, what a life!
Just lying in this sand,
Looking at the stars
I feel so minimal splendid.

Such a mighty breathing
To fill up with this air in this hour.
And if I take a walk
In its motion I can feel its power.

Coros: Jimena Torre.

Thorns at the loving touch of the sand.
Seduced by the howling wind, Holy Land.
Keeping his pace steady and blind
Walks the valley the unquestioned man.

Face of the scorpion, eyes black and white.
No truth in his heart for he knows no lie.
This heaven’s so far, so lost and so dry,
The road to the cities is a dusty scar.

Cho:
And he whistles his way
Way down to the no way.
A different tune everyday
For the same yellow song.

Smiles to the bushes and reads in the root
The trace of a soul, the scent of a ghost.
He scarcely meet people, he’s never alone.
He’s always returning for he’s never gone.

Cho:
And he dances his life
Sun cloud to moon dust
A different step everyday
For the same yellow song.

Confieso que tenía un palomazote reggae montado y recurrí al cover como tabla de salvación. De cualquier forma el “solitude standing“ es otro de esos discos que me teletransportan. Un punto de color.

A R. y F.
Gracias a Héctor Ortiz por prestarme su guitarra acústica.

The working hands in cities yearn
For a distant shore their eyes have never seen.
Does it even exist?

All the hungry hearts
Beating in their minds,
All the saddened eyes
Longing for white sands.

Cho:
Love stories come by like the weather,
Heart matters admit no forecast.
Life takes its weight from a feather,
We can sit waiting for angels to pass.