mariogonzalez.es Blog Work Writing Spotify Logo Spotify Logo (Amarillo) RSS Logo RSS Logo (Amarillo) Email Logo Email Logo (Amarillo) Language Logo Language Logo (Amarillo)
Blog
Piece by piece
Piece by piece

Day 93: Piece by Piece

We step out of jail, shift into first gear,
Deep Purple blasting, tires screeching clear.
We set the pace, we break the ice,
Ignoring every heavenly sign.

No cash? We’ll sleep a while,
Sleeping’s cheap, it’s worth our while.
We devour the night, piece by piece, gram by gram,
Twist the wheel—we won’t see the morning sun.

Life in a minute doesn’t pass so fast,
So I make the most of it—run, before I start to laugh!

Speed up a little more,
I’m zoning out, we’re way too slow.
Speed up a little more,
Outrun the poison running through my soul.
Speed up a little more,
Drown the brake pedal in your shadow.
Speed up a little more.

What?... Let me think…
To hell with thinking!

We drift along on plastic bodies,
Our throats still asleep, unbothered.
We lower our gaze, the sunlight burns,
But who cares? We’ve still got words
To fill the silence, keep the ride alive.
Eyes on the road, don’t lose control—
You’ve got the wheel, that’s all that matters.
Eyes on the road! Eyes on the road!

We suffer the consequences we already know,
No patience left, we lose control.
Our skin is iron, our eyes are leather,
Laughter sharp like steel, tense as ever.
Life in a minute doesn’t pass so fast,
So I make the most of it—run, before I start to laugh!

Free translation of the lyrics of the song Cacho a cacho by Estopa

Last night, this song was our soundtrack. Ángel and Javi (from Soria) rented a car to drive from Berlin. They asked for the cheapest one, but since none were left, the Europcar office handed them a BMW. And not just any BMW—it was a 5 Series BMW 523, gasoline-powered, with an automatic (sequential) gearbox, onboard computer, sunroof, and heated seats.

Of course, before heading to Mateusz’s party (the Warsaw octopus—I'll write more about him another day), we did the obligatory lap around Dresden. Estopa blasted from the speakers as we greeted everyone we passed—hooligans, girls, taxi drivers… And they all respected us. The hooligans didn’t dare throw bottles, the girls were mesmerized, and the taxi drivers knew better than to challenge us. They knew they’d lose.

Posted on 10 December 2005
Next post:
Day 95: Do You Like Driving?
Previous post:
Day 89: Citizen of Dresden