Palabras de Gasolina
La Cabra Mecánica
Gasoline Words
My memories are graveyards of idle hours
To which I dedicate this elegy
Tinged in ochre by the unbearable and monotonous smoke
Of a harmonica
Manic-depressive in the style of Bob Dylan
From the remaining silence
Let the moths feast
Until I find words of naphthalene
Or maybe words of gasoline
Hey, you! Got a light?
She, she's a rock and roll
Her neck smells like baby powder, her knees like urine
My lips are dirty and rusty
Like a microphone
And I know the song by heart
I reinvented four worn-out clichés
I versified my ramblings
Achieving some fame as a committed speaker
In all the TV debates
Even mothers would comment when they saw me
This kid speaks so well
To be so punk and self-destructive
From the remaining silence
Let the moths feast
Until I find words of naphthalene
Or maybe words of gasoline
Hey, you! Got a light?
