The light of the old prison

cast a shadow of the perfect crime

on the pavements of the south quarter

I want to meet you again

over there near the wall

where graffiti of generation

looked the sky on earth

now I look at these street

cleaned up by the blood of the men of war

while the sirens of work

call for the ghost of class

Only Woody Guthrie's guitar

can follow the rhythm of the night

The chord is a love passion

and my shoes look for the balance road

while the icy east wind curls up

the asphalt of contradictions

and spikes souls like albondigas

I walk alone towards midnight

and I want to heat your icy heart

though I wear my father's trouser

and there's little clearness in my head

In the dark side of the town

cheap murders take place

sleepy losers look for beds of stone

as hard as heart of the beast

In my blood everything's

mixed upwith passion

as in the street of the night

among the lightning of traffic lights

and the painful calls of the "rain dogs"

and the icy-blue of the prison

today any road is military zone

No, we won't be the fathers of our hopes

but I know the future in your eyes

oh I know it well

I know that now and then something

new will spread like a wave

in the edges of the world or in desert

The clouds of the moon

tonight touch my wrist

the liquid flows in the darkness

carryng away all this music

and this need of love goin'on

There's a story we must remember

behind the chats

"about the large epic frescos"

to run along the time and take

the tongues of the outskirts

I need R‘n‘R' threw on the street

the tongues of the outckirts

I need R‘n‘R' for this strange serenade

to join all the passion I meet tonight

I want to see your eyes again

to kiss your hands

your lips

to feel my and your body's shaking

and to tell you:

"Hold on baby

for you

for everybody

the sky gives nothing!

this night is yours

this story is yours!"