A city freeze
get on your knees,
pray for warmth and green paper
A city drought
you're down and out,
see your trousers don't taper
Saddle up,
kick your feet,
ride the range of a London street
Travel to a local plane,
turn around and come back again
And at the chime of the city clock
I put up your road block,
hang on to your crown,
for a stone in a tin can
is wealth to the city man
who leaves his armour down
Stay indoors
beneath the floors,
talk with neighbours only
The games you play
make people say
you're either weird or lonely
A city star
won't shine too far
on account of the way you are
and the beads
around your face
make you sure to fit back in place
And at the beat of the city drum
see how your friends come in twos
or threes or more
for the sound of a busy place
is fine for a pretty face
who knows what a face is for
The city clown
will soon fall down
without a face to hide in,
and he will lose
if he won't choose
the one he may confide in
Sonny boy
with smokes for sale
went to ground with a face so pale,
and never heard
about the change
showed his hand and fell out of range
In the light of a city square
find out the face that's fair,
keep it by your side
When the light of the city falls
you fly to the city walls,
take off with your bride
But at the chime of a city clock
I put up your road block,
hang on to your crown,
for a stone in a tin can
is wealth to the city man
who leaves his armour down
get on your knees,
pray for warmth and green paper
A city drought
you're down and out,
see your trousers don't taper
Saddle up,
kick your feet,
ride the range of a London street
Travel to a local plane,
turn around and come back again
And at the chime of the city clock
I put up your road block,
hang on to your crown,
for a stone in a tin can
is wealth to the city man
who leaves his armour down
Stay indoors
beneath the floors,
talk with neighbours only
The games you play
make people say
you're either weird or lonely
A city star
won't shine too far
on account of the way you are
and the beads
around your face
make you sure to fit back in place
And at the beat of the city drum
see how your friends come in twos
or threes or more
for the sound of a busy place
is fine for a pretty face
who knows what a face is for
The city clown
will soon fall down
without a face to hide in,
and he will lose
if he won't choose
the one he may confide in
Sonny boy
with smokes for sale
went to ground with a face so pale,
and never heard
about the change
showed his hand and fell out of range
In the light of a city square
find out the face that's fair,
keep it by your side
When the light of the city falls
you fly to the city walls,
take off with your bride
But at the chime of a city clock
I put up your road block,
hang on to your crown,
for a stone in a tin can
is wealth to the city man
who leaves his armour down
At the Chime of a City Clock, de Nick Drake.
Una de las tantas grandes ventajas que tiene esa dupla genial conocida como otoño-invierno es que es la mejor época para escuchar a Nick Drake. Al mismo tiempo, escuchar a Nick Drake te transporta a otoños e inviernos londinenses oscuros, neblinosos y muy hermosos.
2 comentarios:
Creo que esta es la mejor canción de "Bryter Layter", quizás sea mejor que "Northern Sky"; aunque mi preferida -porque me identifico totalmente con lo que dice, y por la especie de humor negro que la recorre- es "Poor Boy".
Yo estuve en Londres, no en otoño sino en primavera, en Mayo del 98. Es una ciudad hermosísima, pero de niebla no vi nada, en todo un mes hubo sol y hasta calor...
Ahí me compré "Pink Moon", el primer disco de Drake que tuve.
Qué lindo debe ser Londres. Jamás estuve, y andá a saber si voy a ir algún día.
Y Drake... Bryter Layter me parece una gran joya. One of These Things First también me pone la piel de gallina. Y Poor Boy... qué increíble.
Besos.
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