Terms & Conditions | Alejandro Meola

Track Name: New Day The diariero left me at the door the news of the new day. They say that you are awake, they say that you are alive, that you are still naughty. That all that is left behind. The cup, the party, the silence, the lie, the guilt and the plague that occupy our floor lately.

I know I was disappointed. They are old bad habits of seeking me problems, which are not worth it, but they survive me in days so austere and petty, with little imagination.

I own your hell but never your frivolity.

The new day is blank. The new day is so white. And even if I wanted to get into bed, I'm going to walk to tomorrow.

Track Name: Los Benjamines She hates the city, says the air makes her ill. He wants to go on a journey so as not to return and find his own being at last. He very broke up. Alone and in rehabilitation, punching days on a wall. He only wants the Sun, to see it again.

There is so much satisfaction. Never a stop, always in action. They met yirando in a bar and there just, wow, everything was exploding. But her family did not believe that the baby is a gentleman. They will ask you to send you to change, not to return, not to return.

Then they lost contact. The curtain fell on the act and said goodbye to you. Today they have the void without the lightning, the kiss without the mouth, the kindness without the revolution.

And a sweet scar.

Track Name: Where are you when I'm not me? I want to be in your skin again. Forget the time I was wandering alone and not knowing that I need you. Adorando your way of walking I am thinking to you by the sea. Like a diamond to me, soft, opaline.

Look at me and tell me once that this story was always upside down, that you are sand and lime, which is not a good idea.

On a moon tree I promise not to hurt you.
On a moon tree I promise you I will not make you cry
And if I ever do not care, forgive me, I do not take distance.

There is always about me everything that falls upon you.
I always stay over my everything that falls on you.

Track Name: Olive Heart I did not know that I could still love my olive heart. That one that does not have great fortune but right now to you it would lower the Moon to you.

And perhaps sooner or later I can confess that it burns, although sometimes it cows the loneliness. And all the misfortunes that with the years were accumulating in the corner.

Drunk on your kisses, I'm falling into the thickest jealousy. And the obsession to think you in the arms of that young man who with such precarious verses has dazzled you.

My olive heart beats for you, my olive heart.
My olive heart beats for you, do not kill it please.

Track Name: The Blackouts of November It is the blackouts of November that reach me. Forty degrees carry the atmosphere and all the fury. Bicycles parade in asphalt oceans, innocence falls by the moral drain and the ace under the sleeve is a four of glasses. What do you do? You have to survive.

Light that cuts skull shadows, they despair. The silence breaks the cry of a baby in the candlestick. And in the sky a storm threatens speakers, turning everything in thick moisture. Heat and third world. Blackout and silent film. A scream in the night and its raw blink.

It's the November blackouts that hit me.

Track Name: Cake dolls She comes out in the papers, always holding a cake doll. And it made me short, you're not in the circus, that's where you should be. To take me to dinner tonight he picks me up in a Mercedes Benz. Maybe you see their leagues, whatever they say, that's where death awaits me.

I've been looking at the Moon for years on the patio.
I wonder how long I'll be standing,
always waiting for her in the corner.

Track Name: Postcards Stop the clock if you leave but I will continue to dodge the bullets. If it's goodbye night, do not apologize and let us go to bed.

I did not pay attention to the signs that went under my noses past parading more than a month ago. And it will not reach my love, nor a ton of stubborn tempers to return to fascination.

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There is nothing to do, tied yesterday we are going to stay even if I do not see you. But it's better this way, nothing tends to die, just turn the wheel again.

Postcards of the sea that I keep in my pocket. I'm complaining about them one at a time. And the marks on the skin of the flames that knew how to rise, which were all my fascination.

Track Name: Gypsy Cambalache Turn the coin over the ivory. Where to? Nobody knows. Gypsies dance a fatal tango that overflows the speaker. Maria complains again, says that someone has touched her tit. I told you it's not personal, which is normal on subway line Z.

I'm sorry your children have to increase this smelly thing. To be guardian of threshold, another crazy or perhaps a squenun that resists. I changed the banners yesterday for an old shambling room. Do not burden me with your frustration, I'm not here to free you.

New forms cover the cane but all are of cloth. Embankment, antenna and the blue drawer of some Brazilian yuppies. Shoot my TV blades that are blunt. Sometimes I get immunity. Sometimes I'm shirtless.

Track Name: Astrolabe Traveling to a thousand, maybe tomorrow I'll wake up in Paris. Arrive in April to leave behind this gray box. I wrap myself in your velvet legs, in your mouth astrolabio scarlet. And I'll fly with you.

This place is not on sale! The souvenir of unconsciousness.
It's more than I can hug but that does not interest me.

Life is not a roulette, it is not the end nor a label.
It's more than you can imagine, but that does not make you hot.

Nobody escapes the spiral that binds us.
Nobody is saved if there are no answers.
Live, die, in a stone jail.

This place is not on sale!

Track Name: Los Pajaros I know you will be mine but before I have things to do.
Walk forward before the faith is over.
Serene white birds fly over the old walnut tree.
I know that you will be mine but before I have things to do. Track Name: Pacific Bridge And my desire, my dream, my pity, give me a bridge. Give me a bridge that connects this stark reality with your cool shores. Of all you are the hardest. I have tried everything, but nothing heals you.

I take the train at five in the morning. Silent, with worried faces.

Nobody knows what's going on tomorrow and so everything reveals us.

Track Name: Santos Bonaerenses People collect on underground trains heading to school. The street defiles, shine in advertising marquees. I want to talk to you about the hours I've spent idly screaming loud at a silent wall that although I throw stones at you never cracks.

They say they never saw her leave her neighborhood in the middle of the day.
But it is not invisible, it has a dress of flowers and another yellow.

The city, the wall and the girl are mixed in the same direction.
I'm starting to bite back the conscience that ties my feet.

This is fine if you do not want to give me the keys to your great threshold. I do not need them. Still.
If you never spoke to me,
why is it that now you come like this, demanding so much attention?

Marathons for a day to dodge stiff glances.
Hey, buddy! Do not miss out on the circus that is on sale today.

On the way, I'm going to be quiet because my saints from Buenos Aires, who rest on the shoulders of drunks and madmen, travel by my side. They take care of their star.