At fifteen the tying ones cut my wings,
at twenty I escaped by the bad of the foot of the altar,
at thirty I went to arms to take without bulletproof vest,
London was Montparnasse without jeans? Atocha with sea.
At forty-ten I shipwrecked in an ultra plus without a lighthouse,
My horse came home alone, what happened to John Wayne?
I went over the line to go through the hoop,
with 60 what does the size of my Calvin Klein matter?
It never replaces the tuning of the guitar that makes my colt
when the dealer told me that if I did not say no,
the little ant died, the cicada died with another,
I bet on the fallen chips of your domino.
Allons enfants de la patrie,
damn May of Paris,
I sold in Portobello the nails of my cross,
I fed the devil to his health.
Her name was Rebecca the gringa who tied with me,
I would stick my tongue out instead of teaching me how to kiss,
He bought me a storm after stealing my coat,
With wet back there is nothing worse than dreaming.
I negotiated tables for chess: your bishop for my pawns,
I shoveled Lot's woman's nipples with salt,
before I dye my rooms in november,
I uncorked another bottle with Clicquot's widow.
Allons enfants de la patrie,
damn May of Paris,
I sold in Portobello the nails of my cross,
I fed the devil to his health.
My way of committing myself was to flee.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)