White room - Cream

Faltaba cerrar el capítulo rockero en el calor, con el temazo de Cream, tan universal como la guitarra, casi tan contundente como las armas. Que bien que sonaba en manos de esos tres panas.
Me van a quedar buenos recuerdos, incluso voy a cuestionar toda mi forma de pensar sobre este lugar, aunque imagino que la rutina me devolverá la cordura... pero como siempre, ya ansío regresar para retornar y así, en ese ciclo indefinido.
Pero no importa, aqui también se puede afilar la guitarra, cantar bajito, mover la patita, darle a la marcha. Buena idea la de ir sellando recuerdos con pixeles, pues luego hace bien recordar estos lugares y estas personas.
Marcas para la vejez.

In the white room with black curtains near the station.
Blackroof country, no gold pavements, tired starlings.
Silver horses ran down moonbeams in your dark eyes.
Dawnlight smiles on you leaving, my contentment.

I'll wait in this place where the sun never shines
Wait in this place where the shadows run from themselves.

You said no strings could secure you at the station.
Platform ticket, restless diesels, goodbye windows.
I walked into such a sad time at the station.
As I walked out, felt my own need just beginning.

I'll wait in the queue when the trains come back
Lie with you where the shadows run from themselves.

At the party she was kindness in the hard crowd.
Consolation for the old wound now forgotten.
Yellow tigers crouched in jungles in her dark eyes.
She's just dressing, goodbye windows, tired starlings.

I'll sleep in this place with the lonely crowd
Lie in the dark where the shadows run from themselves.