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-.Postales de un Fin de Semana.-
"I was walking around, just a face in the crowd
Trying to keep myself out of the rain
Saw a vagabond king wear a styrofoam crown
Wondered if I might end up the same
Theres a man out on the corner
Singing old songs about change
Everybody got their cross to bare, these days
She came looking for some shelter with a suitcase full of dreams
To a motel room on the boulevard
Guess shes trying to be james dean
Shes seen all the disciples and all the wanna bes
No one wants to be themselves these days
Still theres nothing to hold on to but these days
These days - the stars seem out of reach
These days - there aint a ladder on these streets
These days - are fast, love dont last in this graceless age
There aint nobody left but us these days"
Flashee con la letra.
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