Marta me llamo a las seis hora espanola solo para hablar, solo se sentia sola porque Sebas se marcho de nuevo a Buenos Aires el dinero se acabo ya no
Raise your swords up high! See the black birds fly! Let them hear your rage! Show no fear! Attack! Charge your horses across the fields Together we
You sober up punk I do it high I'm ridin' the wave in the ...(?) Baby you turnin' me on And when you turnin' me off I think you better take some lessons
Bright sky blue Who now fades too Frames birds on the wing Whose sweet songs too sad so sing Now only an echo in my mind As sky fades to black I wonder
La la la... Tous les oiseaux du desespoir Se sont envoles par ma voix Mais on n'a pas voulu les voir Ni les entendre chaque fois Qu'ils ont denonce la
[Instrumental]
It's the bird, it must have been the bird Disgusting critter, it must We should have known better then to trust This disease infested ball of lust and
rincon del olvido, solo en su jaula? desde el infierno mismo donde no debia estar? Que sera lo que te impide oir, tan claro como el agua, que el pajaro
Quise perder mi rastro y me escape de la ciudad, quise perder mi rastro pero me siguieron igual tres pajaros negros vuelan dando vueltas sobre mi, hice
A Tuesday night in Winter, holed up in the city of ravens, The owls in the hills hoo-hooing and eyeing off the field mice down in the cold grey centre
Well it's my very little wonder and it's one that I will keep, But you can take it with you if it helps you when you're trying to sleep... and the men
O fraudulent mirror, O rank rainbow toad, I'd break apart too if I knowed what you knowed I'd fall from the wall, I'd leap from the road, You take cover
Well our dogs get along, but have you noticed how easy evil dialogues of ours come out of wanting, for so long, an easy laughter, to feel guilty for
What's wrong, sad Prince? The body is soft, the heart is cold, You were tongue-in' for danger, but danger bites back, It only lays down for the reckless
They married, a dandy and a back alley tough On the foreshore while kids in the needling rough Stayed low, in, and laid till they'd had enough Of the
Well it tastes like a Sunday, There should be music in the front room, and the markets a'milling with the people in the afternoon. And there's a question
The golden sun is ever gentle in the Valley of Making, Where it's the middle of the Autumn when it isn't high Spring, There are men of many colors and
You don't keep me company, You all turn out wrong, If you are my daughters, if you are my sons, I can only hold you inside for so long, O song, did