Héroe del whisky

He will sell some miracle (nothing more...)
of trained drinkers, I say no more!
and will return to his city in the back of a truck,
the stars right there, within reach,
cold.

He's got a sad paper
stuck up to his eyebrows
in a very complicated menu
of a fancy soirée.
It's what he can offer,
sad papers and a thirst for loose lips
(and sorry for his tongue).

He will dance for the press
and dedicate the new rock of
the caves to his vanity.
One more whiskey hero
(the dog makes itself noticed)
his trick wins him bohemian chicks.

He won't die in front of the Dakota,
he won't reach it,
he says love dies
and says no more.
One more whiskey hero
in the back of a truck,
the stars right there,
within reach, cold.