En Traducidas.net encontrará la traducción al castellano de las letras de Ani Difranco y muchos artistas y grupos más
Our father who art in a penthouse
sits in his 37th floor suite
and swivels to gaze down
at the city he made me in
he allows me to stand and
solicit graffiti until
he needs the land i stand on
in my darkened threshold
am pawing through my pockets
the receipts, the bus schedules
the matchbook phone numbers
the urgent napkin poems
all of which laundering has rendered
pulpy and strange
loose change and a key
ask me
go ahead, ask me if i care
i got the answer here
i wrote it down somewhere
i just gotta find it
i just gotta find it
Somebody and their spray paint got too close
somebody came on too heavy
now look at me made ugly
by the drooling letters
i was better off alone
ainand't that the way it is
they donand't know the first thing
but you donand't know that
until they take the first swing
my fingers are red and swollen from the cold
iand'm getting bold in my old age
so go ahead, try the door
it doesnand't matter anymore
i know the weak hearted are strong willed
and we are being kept alive
until weand're killed
heand's up there the ice
is clinking in his glass
he sends me little pieces of paper
i donand't ask
i just empty my pockets and wait
itand's not fate
itand's just circumstance
i donand't fool myself with romance
i just live
phone number to phone number
dusting them against my thighs
in the warmth of my pockets
which whisper history incessantly
asking me
where were you
I lower my eyes
wishing i could cry more
and care less,
yes itand's true,
i was trying to love someone again,
i was caught caring,
bearing weight
But i love this city, this state
this country is too large
and whoeverand's in charge up there
had better take the elevator down
and put more than change in our cup
or else we
are coming
up
Ani Difranco
Coming up
Coming up
Our father who art in a penthouse
sits in his 37th floor suite
and swivels to gaze down
at the city he made me in
he allows me to stand and
solicit graffiti until
he needs the land i stand on
in my darkened threshold
am pawing through my pockets
the receipts, the bus schedules
the matchbook phone numbers
the urgent napkin poems
all of which laundering has rendered
pulpy and strange
loose change and a key
ask me
go ahead, ask me if i care
i got the answer here
i wrote it down somewhere
i just gotta find it
i just gotta find it
Somebody and their spray paint got too close
somebody came on too heavy
now look at me made ugly
by the drooling letters
i was better off alone
ainand't that the way it is
they donand't know the first thing
but you donand't know that
until they take the first swing
my fingers are red and swollen from the cold
iand'm getting bold in my old age
so go ahead, try the door
it doesnand't matter anymore
i know the weak hearted are strong willed
and we are being kept alive
until weand're killed
heand's up there the ice
is clinking in his glass
he sends me little pieces of paper
i donand't ask
i just empty my pockets and wait
itand's not fate
itand's just circumstance
i donand't fool myself with romance
i just live
phone number to phone number
dusting them against my thighs
in the warmth of my pockets
which whisper history incessantly
asking me
where were you
I lower my eyes
wishing i could cry more
and care less,
yes itand's true,
i was trying to love someone again,
i was caught caring,
bearing weight
But i love this city, this state
this country is too large
and whoeverand's in charge up there
had better take the elevator down
and put more than change in our cup
or else we
are coming
up
