Lyrics of El Diario No Hablaba De Ti Con Estopa - Maria Jimenez, Estopa

El Diario No Hablaba De Ti Con Estopa (original)

Miscellaneous
El Diario No Hablaba De Ti
Hoy dice el periodico que ha muertouna mujer que conoci
que ha perdido en su campo el atleti
y que ha amanecido nevando en paris
Que han pillado un alijo de coca
que a piscis y acuario les toca
el vinagre y la hiel
que aprobo el parlamento europeo
una ley a favor de abolir el deseo,
que falló la vacuna anti sida
que un golpe de estado ha triunfado
en la luna y movidas asi.
Pero nada decia la prensa de hoy
de esta sucia pasión
de este lunes marrón,
del obsceno sabor a cubata
de ron de tu piel
De olor a colonia barata del amanecer
Hoy, amor, como siempre
el diario no hablaba de ti, ni de mi
Hoy dijo la radio que han allado muerto
al niño que yo fui
que han pagado un pasote de pelas
por una acuarela falsa de Dalí
Que ha caido la bolsa en el cielo
que siguen las putas en huelga
de celo en moscu
Que subio la marea que fusilan mañana
a jesus de Judea.
QUe crecio el agujero de Ozono
que el hombre de hoy es el padre del mono
del año tres mil
Pero nada decia el programa de hoy
de este eclipse de mar
de este salto mortal
de tu voz tiritando en la cinta del contestador
de las manchas que deja el olvido
a traves del colchon
Hoy, amor, como siempre
el diario no hablaba de ti, ni de mi
Hoy, amor, como siempre
el diario no hablaba de ti, ni de mi
Hoy, amor, como siempre
el diario no hablaba de ti, ni de mi

(translation)

Miscellaneous
The newspaper did not talk about you
Today the newspaper says that a woman I knew has died
that she has lost in her field of her athletics
and that she woke up snowing in paris
That they have caught a cache of coca
that it's up to pisces and aquarius
vinegar and gall
that the European Parliament approved
a law in favor of abolishing desire,
that the AIDS vaccine failed
that a coup has succeeded
on the moon and moved like that.
But nothing said today's press
of this dirty passion
of this brown monday,
of the obscene taste of Cubata
of rum from your skin
From smell to cheap sunrise cologne
Today, love, as always
the newspaper did not talk about you, nor about me
Today the radio said that they have been dead
to the boy that I was
who have paid a lot of pelas
by a false watercolor of Dalí
That the bag has fallen into the sky
that the whores on strike follow
of zeal in moscow
That the tide rose that they shoot tomorrow
to Jesus of Judea.
that the ozone hole grew
that the man of today is the father of the monkey
of the year three thousand
But nothing said today's program
of this sea eclipse
of this somersault
of your voice shivering on the answering machine tape
of the stains left by oblivion
through the mattress
Today, love, as always
the newspaper did not talk about you, nor about me
Today, love, as always
the newspaper did not talk about you, nor about me
Today, love, as always
the newspaper did not talk about you, nor about me