Planea matarme de todas maneras.
Así que da igual.

Tengo sueño.
He ahuyentado a los espíritus. La casa está limpia.
Ha sido car, no veas, chapó.
Con gusto.
Ahora por culpa de Jaime veré The West Wing, que me está triunfando. Sobre todo Sam Seaborn, pero es que yo soy así.
He ido a un Todo a Cien a ver qué había y he estado a punto de comprar una escopeta de Hidalgo ahí con chapa de sherif. Pero me he rajao porque también había una pistola de Jack Sparrow y no he sabido elegir. Y claro, las dos ya eran 4 euros. Y sólo tenía 3'92. Dioses crueles (Ahora sí, Pablo).


Listen to the silence, let it ring on.
Eyes, dark grey lenses frightened of the sun.
We would have a fine time living in the night,
Left to blind destruction,
Waiting for our sight.

And we would go on as though nothing was wrong.
And hide from these days we remained all alone.
Staying in the same place, just staying out the time.
Touching from a distance,
Further all the time.

Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.

Well I could call out when the going gets tough.
The things that we've learnt are no longer enough.
No language, just sound, that's all we need know, to synchronise
love to the beat of the show.

And we could dance.

Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.

Here's looking at you, kid.