Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma! Tu pure, o Principessa,

nella tua fredda stanza

guardi le stelle

che tremano d’amore e di speranza…

Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,

il nome mio nessun saprà!

An absolute jewel! This song is just great. The videoclip.

RUBIA DE LA CUARTA FILA

Virus de la madrugada,
cuento de hadas,
groupie de MTV,
la balada despeinada
de esta noche te la debo a ti.

Sin negar que escribo por encargo
para huerfanitos de calor
tan amargos, tan malitos, como yo.

Rubia de la cuarta fila,
crece lo que tengas que crecer,
zumo de humo con tequila,
cambio mis arrugas por tu acné.

En la tiza de tus ojos
hay cenizas de naranjo en flor
y pavesas del rastrojo del amor.

darara darara darara
darara darara darara

En mi traje viejo caben,
casi, casi, todos los demas
los que suben, los que saben
los que duelen, los que huelen mal,

mis legañas, mi ruleta rusa,
una musa, un cuarto de alquiler,
dos Españas, 7 besos de mujer.

Rubia de la cuarta fila,
hablame de tú, pórtate mal,
mantoncito de manila
con un piercing rojo en el ojal.

Cuélgate de quien te quiera,
no te mueras más que por amor,
cuando yo tenía tu edad
era mayor.

darara darara darara
darara darara darara

Me pidieron que improvise
y en los bises te mandé un bombín,
los veranos son tan grises,
los otoños solos de violín.

Y que salga el sol por Algeciras
y la media luna por Bagdad
y los sueños sean mentiras de verdad.

Rubia de la cuarta fila,
carterita para el buen ladrón,
lagrimón de cocodrila,
juego de Dalila con Sansón.

No le cierres la ventana
a la aurora que rompe el cristal,
que el ahora es el principio del final.

Rubia de la cuarta fila,
dos pupilas que me tratan bien.
Rubia de la cuarta fila,
descarrílame el ultimo tren.

Rubia de la cuarta fila,
tragaperras de mi vanidad.
Rubia de la cuarta fila,
clorofila de la soledad.

Me han dicho que tú me engañas
y me da miedo pensar,
porque si fuera verdad
la vida yo te quitaba
aunque yo fuera a un penal.

I’ve been told you cheat on me,
and I’m afraid to think
because were it true
I would take your life
even if I go to prison.

Camarón de la Isla y Paco de Lucía, Son tus ojos dos estrellas (1971).

Antony’s voice has that blues timbre, that gospel sound that turns every song into hymn.

Isn’t Firstful of Love (mp3) the sweetest chant to masochist love?

Fistful of Love

I was lying in my bed last night staring
At a ceiling full of stars
When it suddenly hit me
I just have to let you know how I feel

We live together in a photograph of time
I look into your eyes
And the seas open up to me
I tell you I love you
And I always will
And I know that you can’t tell me
So I’m left to pick up
The hints, the little symbols of your devotion
I feel your fists
And I know it’s out of love
And I feel the whip
And I know it’s out of love
I feel your burning eyes burning holes
Straight through my heart
It’s out of love
I accept and I collect upon my body
The memories of your devotion

The partisan (Leonard Cohen)

When they poured across the border
I was cautioned to surrender,
this I could not do;
I took my gun and vanished.

I have changed my name so often,
I’ve lost my wife and children
but I have many friends,
and some of them are with me.

An old woman gave us shelter,
kept us hidden in the garret,
then the soldiers came;
she died without a whisper.

There were three of us this morning
I’m the only one this evening
but I must go on;
the frontiers are my prison.

Oh, the wind, the wind is blowing,
through the graves the wind is blowing,
freedom soon will come;
then we’ll come from the shadows.

Les Allemands e’taient chez moi,
ils me dirent, “Signe toi,”
mais je n’ai pas peur;
j’ai repris mon arme.

J’ai change’ cent fois de nom,
j’ai perdu femme et enfants
mais j’ai tant d’amis;
j’ai la France entie`re.

Un vieil homme dans un grenier
pour la nuit nous a cache’,
les Allemands l’ont pris;
il est mort sans surprise.

[The Germans were at my home
They said, "Sign yourself,"
But I am not afraid
I have retaken my weapon.

I have changed names a hundred times
I have lost wife and children
But I have so many friends
I have all of France

An old man, in an attic
Hid us for the night
The Germans captured him
He died without surprise.]

Oh, the wind, the wind is blowing,
through the graves the wind is blowing,
freedom soon will come;
then we’ll come from the shadows.

Redemption Song (Bob Marley)