P.S.

                                Tim Booth y sus James: música para las masas (inteligentes)

Aquella mañana gris, de lunes, de abril, de grises... Pensé que podía odiarte, creí que tu mentira no era más que una sucia verdad. No concebí el engaño como una manera de pensar. Todos tus actos fueron como el final de una postal. Sin firma, sin autoridad. Esas fueron las últimas palabras que logro recordar. Aquel fue el final.

Javier Mateos

READ:

You're a weapon of devotion

Keep the faithful entertained
You're a lover of attention
Found a way to pawn the soul
Disposition may be fetching
But the world moves on and leaves you far behind

I hear you, I hear you, whispering such gorgeous stories
I see you, I see you, trying to break free
You liar, you liar, you can't live the dreams you're spinning
You liar, love to be deceived

You're falling, you're falling, falling from your god-like distance
You're fashion, just fashion, fashion doesn't keep
You're sour, so sour, all is hope and trust is misplaced
You're sour, now you are alone

Walking on fire, feel the way the world's inclining
Walking on fire, hate to deceive
Walking on fire, now the world will keep its distance
Walking on fire, you rather than me

My son says, dear father, what did you do when the world turned over
Keep spinning, keep spinning, send us off to sleep
You liar, you liar, all your words are just dust in moonshine
You liar, love to be deceived

Walking on fire, found a place away from humans
Walking on fire, hate to deceive
Walking on fire, now the world will keep its distance
Walking on fire, you rather than me

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