Tango dans le ciel du New York

A penultimate obstacle for the athlete. 
Just a coda to this dream of ashes, to this coincidental point between devotion and frost.

Her name was Anhedonia, she walked through the elevational city, everything was new beyond that ocean, every taxi seemed to scream her name. Out

... and still she waited for the night to come. 
And come
and come...

Her hands were percale shining among the footlights:

one night in the city
one night looking pretty

and the city looked at her, but the city... what's a city, but a melody emitted by the billboards?

Cities cannot love


and still she waited for the night to come. 
And come
and come 
and come...


The most beautiful man in the world
that, the one with the sweetest, most mysterious voice
the envy of us all, the other men
the most beautiful man in the world:

she smacked the fruity-bitter nectar
she felt the fleshy and swirling cramps
and then [yeah, and then, just then]
one by one she shattered the footlights
hurling bricks at them
like a maddened she-cat

one night in the city
one night looking pretty

and the city looked at her, but the city... what's a city, but a melody emitted by the crashed glasses?

Cities cannot cry.































Yo no sé que pasó
creo que entonces la noche llegó
[sobre su regazo, sí, sobre su pelo, su vida]
 
quizás amanezca algún otro día
en el cielo de New York....

o a la vuelta de tu esquina.











and still she waited for the night to come. 
And come
and come 
[and come].





























Tango dans le ciel du New York.