Nuevos Planes, Idénticas Estra

"Looks like it’s gonna rain,
the air here feels warmer," a woman told me
with a friendly face and a wild hairstyle
this morning in the elevator. Why would anyone lie to me there?
That revelation kept me up all night.
I came up with an ambitious plan, it was all about survival.
And my voice was a magnet, and I managed to attract,
waltzing through the supermarket, a hundred-strong crowd.
And we’ll meet at the airports,
and in the warmth of a smoke-filled room where no air or light gets in
we’ll talk about the weather and maybe the government,
and we’ll sketch out our grand plan, and one station will follow another.

Looks like I failed,
my face didn’t make it on TV today.
Doesn’t matter, I, like a good Westerner,
can swim just like a fish, a fish in a sea of mediocrity.
I almost gave up. They said about me:
"With what’s inside you, it wouldn’t be so bad if you’re here tomorrow."
And in the bed of a filthy hospital
I’m still alone shooting like Kevin Ayers
at a full load, so, so full,
that no, I can’t fail, I’m not gonna fail.
And I know you won’t want to trust me again;
no one trusts nuclear energy after Chernobyl.
But the sky, still so dark,
is our sky, it’s ours,
and I have an ambitious plan, it’s all about survival.

(I love you, and no, I haven’t done
and I know I’ll never do anything more real and sincere.
I love you, and I have a plan for us both,
it’s all about survival.)