Marc Cohn revisited
Marc Cohn on my headphones... A time for stillness, although my son yells and shrieks in excitement and speed on his "car" around the dining table, across the sitting room and towards the entrance door. I am walking in Memphis, glory of this warm voice which deals with such small concepts as entering a foreigner's car or loving your car/ dad's car.
I recall my first car, a yellow Simca, which took us anywhere we wanted without a single word, up the highest paths that lead to mountains, without air-conditioning, the terrible smell of the synthetic skin which he had been bestowed... 4-gear car, good speed while running down the roads, turistic-speed at high slopes... No music to entertain the trip, only my singing which would end in murder if I didn't stop singing the same fire-meeting -teenagers-around-the-bongos...
Anyway, sometimes batteries get exhausted and the soundtrack of my thoughts collapses. Maybe some other time, when children are asleep.
I recall my first car, a yellow Simca, which took us anywhere we wanted without a single word, up the highest paths that lead to mountains, without air-conditioning, the terrible smell of the synthetic skin which he had been bestowed... 4-gear car, good speed while running down the roads, turistic-speed at high slopes... No music to entertain the trip, only my singing which would end in murder if I didn't stop singing the same fire-meeting -teenagers-around-the-bongos...
Anyway, sometimes batteries get exhausted and the soundtrack of my thoughts collapses. Maybe some other time, when children are asleep.
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Càntirs trencats, nanses desaparellades, torns que van com volen...aquí hi cap tot!