Today David Bowie died and then I entered this cafe full of sun and empty of people and at a few decibels exactly conducive to my purring soul at the window table, right in front of the sun, and on the other side the sea, It rang The man who sold the world, The version of that Unplugged de Nirvana where a sharp guitar guitar is gone in the penultimate chorus. That we would not have given all then for having been in that concert, for having seen Nirvana in the discrete unplugged.
It was song number three.
Coffee is called ijentea but it's like being on a trip in New York. Mars, Where we were with the spiders this morning welcoming the patriarch.
Coffee is called ijentea but it's like being on a trip in New York.
Ijentea has a strange and extraordinary musical list and now I listen Come and go With a bottom teaspoon because two ladies have just entered to snack.
And suddenly, oh, My God, the miracle occurs. Sounds Rock and Roll Suicide. Instinctively give the volume of my computer to upload the music of the bar. How funny we are humans sometimes. Oh, in, in, you are not alone. David shouted at his suicide rock and roll what he wanted to be screaming at him. Because he was isolated but he needed people, He wanted to get out of his space capsule and he was going to look for solutions to Mars with his long body and his eyes anywhere.
He has songs that reach the southern end of the melodic cry, plugging halfway between hypersensitivity to injustice and the spinal cord.
I don't know much about David Bowie, truth, probably my vap partners know much more than me, But I know he was a space traveler, Hence its component to globetrot, And that has songs that reach the southern end of the melodic cry, plugging halfway between hypersensitivity to injustice and the spinal cord.
We hope that the skies will receive him with open arms and comfortable armchairs and that I soon used the daily heavenly while the others continue to fight historical injustice and listen to Cindy Lauper that right now accompanies us in the sunset of this bar.
And all the fat-skinny people, and all the tall-short people
And all the nobody people, and all the somebody people
I never thought I’d need so many people
(Five Years – David Bowie)
