De casta le viene al galgo

¿Os resulta familiar la música? ¿La voz? ¿La cara? ¿El apellido?


Bonita, ¿eh?

Deber ser jodido tener por padre a uno de los intocables,  saber que ni por un instante te acercarás a su altura.


Las doce. A esta hora comienzo mis doce horas de pista. Alguien lo preguntó. Sí, sí, cambiamos de sentido cada tres horas. Para que no nos volvamos tontos, si es que se puede estar más. En 24 horas hay "muchos" participantes. En doce sólo estamos diez. Calles 7 y 8. Qué gracia. Voy a tener pesadillas con las líneas

"What Other Guy" (Adam Cohen)


I know what you look like in the morning
Your kisses are soft and warm
I can draw you with my eyes closed
See you with nothing on but the radio

I know how many years of French you took
Your favorite movies, your favorite books
I know what really gets you going… glowing

I know where you go with your beautiful friends
I know what you taste like when the night ends

I know the kind of thing that makes you laugh
The way you tilt your head for a photograph
What other guy knows you like that?

And I can name the first guy you ever kissed
I can name the perfume on your wrist
What other guy knows you like that?

Oh, Anne
Oh, Anne

I know what you want by what you're wearing
The kind of night you're preparing 

I know what your hands do when you're kissing
Your number one and number two favorite positions
I know how your skin glistens, listen
I know where you go with your beautiful friends
I know what you taste like when the night ends