Aún recuerdo una lejana tarde a principio de los noventa, éramos jóvenes e imberbes, mi amigo Francisco Molero llegó a mi casa con un casette de Cohen.....la primera vez que lo escuché supuso un shock, pero poco a poco su voz cavernosa fue atrapándome, hasta convertirse en parte imprescindible en la banda sonora de mi vida. Leonard Cohen fue un poeta de los tiempos modernos, capaz de poner música a sus poemas, subirse a un escenario y transformar en maravillosas canciones todo lo que bulle en su interior. La grabación de The Future coincidió con los agitados acontecimientos que sacudieron al mundo a final de la década de los '80; la caída del muro de Berlín, los disturbios de los Ángeles, el auge de las drogas, la liberalización sexual . . .
Give me back my broken night
my mirrored room, my secret
life
it's lonely here,
there's no one left to torture
Give
me absolute control
over every living soul
And lie beside me,
baby,
that's an order!
Give me crack and anal sex
Take the
only tree that's left
and stuff it up the hole
in your
culture
Give me back the Berlin wall
give me Stalin and St
Paul
I've seen the future, brother:
it is murder.
Things
are going to slide, slide in all directions
Won't be
nothing
Nothing you can measure anymore
The blizzard, the
blizzard of the world
has crossed the threshold
and it has
overturned
the order of the soul
When they said repent,
repent
I wonder what they meant
You don't know me
from the wind
you never will, you never did
I'm the little
jew
who wrote the Bible
I've seen the nations rise and
fall
I've heard their stories, heard them all
but love's the
only engine of survival
Your servant here, he has been told
to
say it clear, to say it cold:
It's over, it ain't going
any
further
And now the wheels of heaven stop
you feel the devil's
riding crop
Get ready for the future:
it is murder
There'll
be the breaking of the ancient
western code
Your private life
will suddenly explode
There'll be phantoms
There'll be fires on
the road
and the white man dancing
You'll see a woman
hanging
upside down
her features covered by her fallen gown
and all the
lousy little poets
coming round
tryin' to sound like Charlie
Manson
and the white man dancin'
Give me back the Berlin
wall
Give me Stalin and St Paul
Give me Christ
or give me
Hiroshima
Destroy another fetus now
We don't like children
anyhow
I've seen the future, baby:
it is murder
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