terrible angels

Cocorosie

PD: el 25 de noviembre vienen la hermanas Casidy, jejeje, y esa guitarra es como la mia

Beautiful Boys

Antony :
Those, those beautiful boys
Those, those beautiful boys

Cocorosie :
Born illegitimately
To a whore, most likely
He became an orphan
Oh what a lovely orphan he was
Sent to the reformatory
Ten years old, was his first glory
Got caught stealing from a nun
Now his love story had begun

Thirty years he spent wandering
A devil's child with dove wings
He went to prison
In every country he set foot in
Oh how he loved prison
How awfully lovely was prison

Antony :
All those beautiful boys
Pimps and queens and criminal queers
All those beautiful boys
Tattoos of ships and tattoos of tears

Cocorosie :
His greatest love was executed
The pure romance was undisputed
Angelic hoodlums and holy ones
Angelic hoodlums and holy ones

Antony :
All those beautiful boys
Pimps and queens and criminal queers
All those beautiful boys
Tattoos of ships and tattoos of tears

All those beautiful boys
Pimps and queens and criminal queers
All those beautiful boys
Tattoos of ships and tattoos of tears

All those beautiful boys
Beautiful boys...
All those beautiful boys
Beautiful boys...

Those beautiful boys...

PD: A quien no se le pegue el estribillo de Antony es que no tiene alma, y a quien se le quede grabado en la memoria no podra parar de tararear, lo siento.

honey or tar

Supuse que os gustaria oir que tal suenan

cocorosie

I undressed you with my eyes i have
Maybe even raped you
In a dark and eerie corner of my mind
I tucked you there
And touched you in a dream last night
Pushed you aside when you entered
My thoughts at the wrong time
I have sat up upon your lap and
Saddled my thighs around your hips like ropes
I rode you on a chair and in the shower
And all the while i clung heavy to your back
My desire deeply harnessed in your spine
While I squeezed you like a tree trunk
You may have been one
Sexless and comfort in your mind
Even barer than a child's
I'm riding recklessly through a thick and humid
Jungle growing anxious with the deep and primal
Yearning that stirs
Deeply pulsing up toward the surface
Like sap rising or honey or tar