MEXICO CITY RAIN

Entre la falta de actualizaciones constantes en este cuchitril ha estado incluída la música, a grado tal que en este momento nisiquiera recuerdo cual fue la última canción que puse aquí.

Sin embargo, ayer escuché esta canción de Kafka Jones que desde la primera vez que la oí hace un par de años me gustó mucho. Se trata del primer track del álbum 'Amerak Blues', mismo que compré en el Teatro Metropolitan al término de un concierto de La Gusana Ciega el año pasado.

¿Qué tiene que ver La Gusana aquí?. Kafka Jones es un álter ego de su líder y vocalista Daniel Gutiérrez. La música, como el mismo lo dice está muy influenciada en Bob Dylan y la canción en lo personal me parece la mejor del disco. Aquí la comparto:

KAFKA JONES - MEXICO CITY RAIN

To the Dreams of passing comets // Of all misteries unsolved // To the bearing of a compass // That is spinning on the ground // They will guide us through the pits // Of their ellusive politics // They will pawn our independence // To get stoned

And our past is well preserved // In our collective intelect // And we think we don't diserve // What our future has prepared // It's a race but no one is running // Its a war we will not fight // We will stand upong our dorway // Staring back into the night

But we'll never see tomorrow // In the Mexico City rain

When the proud went to the stables // They were slaughtered by the pigs // They came black with coats and ties // With their rusty arms they signed // An agreement with the mongrels // To build their castles on your lawn // Now theyre building up a wall around your home

But we'll never see tomorrow // In the Mexico City rain

Now your waitreses are waiting // But your servants are all gone // They sliped through the cracks of middle class // They are all heading up north // To their hopes in clouds of opium // Through a lonesome deser storm // But know it won't be long before // They put them on a bus and send them home

And they'll never see tomorrow // In the Mexico City rain

When it all started to crumble // It is really hard to say // But the dust on every gambler // And the pictures on his wall // They reveal the little secrets // Of the method in his game // And tonught well be the gamblers // In our little mascarade // And tonight well see the fireworks again

But we'll never see tomorrow // In the Mexico City rain // But we'll never see tomorrow // In the Mexico City rain