It's you. Or the you in me, perhaps.

[Cada vez estoy más convencida de que es imposible llegar a nadie, al menos intencionadamente. Todo es casual, apenas sabemos nada.]

Every day I wake up and it's Sunday
Whatever's in my head won't go away
The radio is playing all the usual
What's a "Wonderwall" anyway?
Because my inside is outside
My right side's on the left side
Cause I'm writing to reach you now but
I might never reach you
Only want to teach you
About you. But that's not you
It's good to know that you are home for Christmas
It's good to know that you are doing well
It's good to know that you all know I'm hurting
It's good to know I'm feeling not so well
Because my inside is outside
My right side's on the left side
Cause I'm writing to reach you now but
I might never reach you
Only want to teach you
About you. But that's not you
And you know it's true
But that won't do
Maybe then tomorrow will be Monday
And whatever's in my head should go away
But still the radio keeps playing all the usual
And what's a Wonderwall anyway?
Because my inside is outside
My right side's on the left side
Cause I'm writing to reach you now but
I might never reach you
Only want to teach you
About you. But that's not you
And you know it's true
But that won't do
And you know it's you I'm talking to

[Travis, Writing to reach you]

Travis es un grupo que escucho por temporadas. A veces no los soporto y otras no puedo dejarlos. Pero una de las cosas que más me gusta de ellos es que tienen cierto sentido del humor macabro que se manifiesta en sus vídeos, al pobre Francis Healy le pasa de todo. Si en éste es apedreado, ametrallado y asaeteado, en los que siguen tiene luchas de rayos a lo Palpatine, es secuestrado o aterriza en pueblos de pesadilla. La muerte siempre está presente, aunque se mitigue lo chocante con lo irónico.

Walking in the sun

Flowers in the window

Why does it always rain on me?