24 oct 2008

We love you







We love you, so we say


we love you despite what you do, or what you don't

and despite, the gnarled pendulum of time
which goes by and by behind your sick eyes. 

As the amount of years gone by, your rictus goes changing babe: your eyes have lost some of their old light, and they go watching beyond: 
did you see that all the telephones sounded out loud in the room, at once, for people with paper teeth, babe?

Telephones from the summer of 1965 and we loved you.




Once my father told me that in the Francoist Spain, in the Spain of the Spanish Sahara; all the radio-transistors transmitted the same old and faded solar march about a brown summer of 1965 for faces in the Sun and brand new white shirts, sanforized.


And for the new yellow Kingdom of Spain

and for a whole lotta brand new we love you's

and we love you babe:



The King he's at the threshold and we love you


the servants are all dead and we love you


the black clouds are arriving, and we love you


the princess eschews the prince and we love you


the people say that you're insane and we love you


the aftermath's farfetched and we luv you


the tune goes getting darker but we love ya


the palace is in darkness and we love you

the juggler is an one-liner and we love you

the jester's eyes look sinister while we love you

and hence we are here babe, cause we love you.




And as it was said during the wooden days, in the Spanish Sahara, during the brown and gold days of 1965: 
we love you.


Gold days, like Epiphones of destiny, or Europe


Europe

Europe
Europe
Europe.


Now I wonder if all that was a reverie, 
or just another spectre walking on the combed sands 

of another desert 


of the Empire.






























the Empire
the Empire
the Empire


the Empire.








No hay comentarios:

Archivo del blog