I'm gonna sit down and write a long letter
To all the good friends I've known
And I'm gonna try
And thank them all for the good times together.
Though so apart we've grown.
One of these days,
I'm gonna sit down and write a long letter
To all the good friends I've known
One of these days, one of these days, one of these days,
And it won't be long, it won't be long.
And I'm gonna thank,
That old country fiddler
And all those rough boys
Who play that rock 'n' roll
I never tried to burn any bridges
Though I know I let some good things go.
One of these days,
I'm gonna sit down and write a long letter
To all the good friends I've known
One of these days, one of these days, one of these days,
And it won't be long, it won't be long.
From down in L.A.
All the way to Nashville,
From New York City
To my Canadian prairie home
My friends are scattered
Like leaves from an old maple.
Some are weak, some are strong.
One of these days,
I'm gonna sit down and write a long letter
To all the good friends I've known
One of these days, one of these days, one of these days,
And it won't be long, it won't be long.
One of these days, one of these days, one of these days,
And it won't be long, it won't be long.
When its not always raining therell be days like this
When theres no one complaining therell be days like this
When everything falls into place like the flick of a switch
Well my mama told me therell be days like this
When you dont need to worry therell be days like this
When no ones in a hurry therell be days like this
When you dont get betrayed by that old judas kiss
Oh my mama told me therell be days like this
When you dont need an answer therell be days like this
When you dont meet a chancer therell be days like this
When all the parts of the puzzle start to look like they f it
Then I must remember therell be days like this
When everyone is up front and theyre not playing tricks
When you dont have no freeloaders out to get their kicks
When its nobodys business the way that you wanna live
I just have to remember therell be days like this
When no one steps on my dreams therell be days like this
When people understand what I mean therell be days like this
When you ring out the changes of how everything is
Well my mama told me therell be days like this
Oh my mama told me
Therell be days like this
Oh my mama told me
Therell be days like this
Oh my mama told me
Therell be days like this
Oh my mama told me
Therell be days like this
When theres no one complaining therell be days like this
When everything falls into place like the flick of a switch
Well my mama told me therell be days like this
When you dont need to worry therell be days like this
When no ones in a hurry therell be days like this
When you dont get betrayed by that old judas kiss
Oh my mama told me therell be days like this
When you dont need an answer therell be days like this
When you dont meet a chancer therell be days like this
When all the parts of the puzzle start to look like they f it
Then I must remember therell be days like this
When everyone is up front and theyre not playing tricks
When you dont have no freeloaders out to get their kicks
When its nobodys business the way that you wanna live
I just have to remember therell be days like this
When no one steps on my dreams therell be days like this
When people understand what I mean therell be days like this
When you ring out the changes of how everything is
Well my mama told me therell be days like this
Oh my mama told me
Therell be days like this
Oh my mama told me
Therell be days like this
Oh my mama told me
Therell be days like this
Oh my mama told me
Therell be days like this
Aquel horror y la necesidad de ser cuanto antes distinto y deshacerme por fin de aquello me impacientaron. El tiempo me parecía tan largo que volví a mirar el reloj. Mi familiar sentido histérico del tiempo hizo su aparición.
(…)
Sin embargo, pensé ahora, mi exagerado sentido del tiempo -lo que quiere decir quizá mi excesivo sentido de mí mismo- es un obstáculo para la serenidad y la capacidad de comprensión que quisiera lograr.
Peter Handke, Carta breve para un largo adiós
...agachado termina este tema, quizá llorando, quizá solo pretende transmitir esa posibilidad, los días son extraños y sus gentes se enrarecen con el tiempo, dejas de reconocer a los transeuntes y continúas caminando en duermevela, la calle no está hecha para agacharse a llorar o suplicar por poder convertir en cierto, uno solo de los sueños que ya no tienes, pero los sueños cambian como las personalidades y donde no deseabas nada surge una inquietud, un interés que dirige tus pasos por otras avenidas y son otras las calles de otra ciudad las que transitas sin haber viajado a ella, sigues un rastro, quizá el tuyo aunque no puedes asegurar nada porque la intuición esta exenta de certezas y se diría que te guía tu osamenta, la que quedará mucho después de haberte ido, la que te sostiene pese a no desearlo en algunas ocasiones, sobre la que cuelga una carne en permanente regeneración y deshecho, temblando al son de tus calmados pasos que dejaron la urgencia para los confiados, para aquellos
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