Lyrics looking for music to form a song

you
you make
you make me
you make me wanna
you make me wanna open my veins and bleed
you make me dizzy
you make me stupid
you make me speed
up

you make me wanna smoke
you make me wanna snort all the dust in my room
you make me wanna choke
you make me drink
you make me immortal
the whole night in a blink
you make me ill
you make me swallow every pill
I find
you
you make me
babe

you make me lay in the floor
you make me wanna buy a gun
you make me scream
you make me hard, you make me soft
you make me wanna dry like a lizard in the sun

you make me wanna run
you make me wanna torn my skin in two
you
you make me wanna
make me wanna kill

you
babe

you make me scream
you make me howl
you make me wanna start a fight
you make me wanna hit my head to the wall

you
you make me want to lose all dignity
you make me want to


you make me want to lick you
you make me want to kiss you
you make me wanna to bite you
you make me want to squeeze you

you
you you

you make me wanna get naked
you make me wanna drop dead
deadlocked
dunked
caked
under your bed

you
you
you

y si...

y si te digo que llovía levemente,
que hacía frío
y las hojas amarillas caían sobre la negra negra carretera

y si te recuerdo que paré el coche en el barro
y solo estábamos nosotros dos
entre la niebla
y los disparos de escopeta

y si te digo que recuerdo tu brillante cintura
y tu pequeña cicatriz en el ojo
y tu manera de sumergirte en el agua caliente

y si te digo que recuerdo tu pelo negro negro
y a patti smith
y tus manos en mi cuello acercándome más
y mis dientes mordiéndote los hombros
y los cristales empañados
en el medio del desolado
húmedo
páramo

y si te digo que te agarrabas a mi
como si fuera un tronco en medio del mar vapuleándote
que lo sentí así
que es verdad
que lo se

y si te digo que seguíamos besándonos
para sobrevivir
para respirar
para sacarnos a flote
y que vi cómo sonreías
y me sujetabas la mano
y las piernas
en el infinito embudo
de no saber a dónde vamos

y si te recuerdo con tu cabeza en mi pecho
y el gato naranja en mi tripa
y mi boca leyéndote
y mi cabeza medio dormida improvisando palabras para ti
y si... y si te digo que fui feliz
por unos momentos fui feliz

y si te digo que ahora vuelvo a escuchar la misma canción
aunque otra lluvia golpea
otros cristales
y otro páramo me rodea
pero ahora no tengo mi salvavidas
y mi salvavidas no me tiene a mi

¿y si te digo que tengo las llaves del coche en la mano
y he encendido el motor
por que tengo hambre
y te necesito
por que quiero ser humano
por que no puedo más

y si te digo que voy a verte?

1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1

fuck 1...
i miss you
i don't care if it’s right or wrong
if i should write you or not
if i should call you or not
if i should see you or not

fuck 1

it's a rainy night in new york city
and i just miss you

that's all

that's the Truth for today

for now

for the mentally insane
for the people in gyms
for the priest
and the top midels
for you
and raymond chandler
and giocometti
and the cavemen
and me
and he

and
i wish i could be with you now
or
i wish you could be with me now
or whatever...

and there are white flowers on the table
and picnics in the parks
and spicy chicken legs in korean restaurants

and who cares?

who gives a damn if i am ok,
if you tell me about your pills,
and your childhood,
and your boyfriend?
Who cares if that transparent loneliness you breath
around gets thicker
and takes you far away from me
to wherever you want to retreat,
to hell
or to home?

who?
fuck honey
what else can a i say,
when it's almost one in the morning
and I have happiness so close I can almost smell it,
and there is nobody around
and i miss you?

what?

i just

hope you are feeling better

hope you can grab a plane and come with me

hope you get this message

because it's burning
and it will burn you too

… one dry day

the road
what the hell?
the road
and that sinking feeling
that last day on earth feeling
that feeling of speed loneliness
that "i don't love her anymore" feeling
that last night on wheels feeling

it was august i recall
it was a bare naked feeling
made of little black shinny cigarettes
that smell like clove
sweet hong kong girls
and tall blonde women that taste like strawberry juice

fake sunglasses
memorabilia
vodka & orange by the river

… but anyway
don't pay any attention to me
it's just a storm of words
that's all
blurry lights in the paper night
UFOs
love
and lost
and all those things
that always happen to be there when you don't think about them
or when you are half slept

or when your stomach aches like a motherfucker
on a friday night and you are by yourself
in a hotel room
in the middle of nowhere
cold feet
broken heart
and piss off because your dam neighbor
is playing that awful music all the time

that kind of feeling
that speed
that loneliness
that warsaw

poem for l

fuck it

fuck “the powers of now”
the “how to change your lives”
the dam habits of the dam “highly effective people”
the side show shrinks
the late afternoon bastards with that easy smile

I don’t wanna be like you
I don’t wanna feel like you

I just wanna lick her legs
and not having to work

I don’t wanna have a fake god
a fake friend
a fake family
a fake happiness

fuck you

don’t try to sell me Salvation,
Salvation never lasts,
is an illusion

don’t try to sell me anything,
don’t try to sell me peace of mind,
peace of mind is a motherfucker,
you have to work on her every day,
and even if you do, she remains quite

fuck the ones who take you by the arm and tell you something like
“it’s all in your hands”
“there’s nothing you can’t get if you really want it”
“I Can Make You Confident”

If it was in my hands
you will be in a hole in the ground;
if I could get anything I really wanted
I would not be working in this shit job,
for this dam money;
and if you want to make a confident guy out of me,
stop telling me I am not

fuck you all
I can’t stand you, liars
there’s no cheap way to put it
there’s no nice way to say it

I do need nobody to inspire me to "unlock my creative potential"
I don’t need your fucking pyramids,
the fucking graphics,
the colurful schemes,
the cheesy powerpoints

fuck the self-discovery,
the god-discovery,
the give-me-all the-money-you-have-discovery,
the spiritual growth and the personal development,
the truth is never in your tongues,
don’t give me that shit

we are lost,
there are no answers

enough with that bullshit,
enough with that the crap

we don’t need that shit,
we don’t need no more superficiality,
compulsive buying,
egocentric,
stupid rules

Don’t trust the ones that want to sell you “the secret”,
there is none,

everything is plain to see

everybody knows what is all this shit about,
and if you think you don’t
read the newspapers,
listen to the people around you,
open your fucking ears and your fucking eyes

and if you still cannot see it
well… fuck you too

haikus for

bajo las orquídeas blancas
cierro los ojos
me muerdo los dedos
escucho a las ambulancias pasar
y pienso en ti, claro

***

Kenya is blowing up in pieces
the snow covers New York
like a white dragon halo
and all I can do is stare
at your picture on the little frame


***

lo ultimo que recuerdo de ella
son sus ojos verdes
bajo la luz amarillenta
de mi cuarto
como luces de papel a lo lejos perdiéndose en el mar

***

la lluvia golpea las ventanas
como si alquien lanzara puñados de agujas
solo
sobre el viejo suelo de madera
una flor pálida
en mis manos

***

my feet are damn cold
I listen to sour songs in the radio
the beautiful snow surrounds me like a hound of angry dogs
I have your delicate scarf with black stars around my neck
I miss you
I miss feeling like I am back home again

i could use somebody

m is like a little cloud of creek delicate eyes,
messy hair
thin white LM cigarettes
and bad words

m is like a walking nervous breakdown
with those plimsolls stepping up and down the bar
the top of the car
my feet
my face

m is really lovely when she is not completely drunk
and i talk to her about all these things
my ghost
the dead people
and such

she drives almost lying in the drivers place
and starts and stops so fast that
i feel like somebody is shaking my guts with a pitchfork
i like it for a while
i like how she fights with herself
how she forgets the dam ticket for the fucking parking
how she misses the traffic lights
how the machine eats her money and never delivers the stupid ticket...

her stomach aches
and she smokes
and she takes the smoke out
and surrounds herself with nicotine like a life vest
and changes the gear
and tells me about her problems with this guy
she used to be with
and smokes
and takes the smoke out
and changes the gear

i embrace her

and

after a few seconds

she embraces me stronger

m is a mess of beautiful turquoise eyes
and smoke from her thin white LM cigarettes
m is really lovely when she is not completely drunk