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Micaela, Argentina. De las que van a amar a los Beatles hasta su último instante. Ricotera. Arctic Monkeys. Eruca Sativa empuja mi andar.
Me gusta admirar a quienes me rodean. "Ganas de cambiar el mundo, antes de que él me cambie a mí".

Both sides, and softly came the growl from both sides, and if his whisper splits the mist. Just think of what he’s capable of with his kiss…
Nice try, you cannot turn away, but nice try.
Turned your legs to little building blocks, and with his index finger flicks you on your socks.
I’ll go high pitched, he’ll talk and make you voice sound high pitched.
Dread to think if he got you on your own, and whispered in your ear in that baritone.
It’s the same stone, his heart was cut out of the same stone.
That they used to calve his jaw, it’s impossible not to feel inferior
And he could catapult you back to your daddy or into any hissing mise, and he will tear you out the day after a triumph is as hollow…
As the day after a tragedy, he’ll extinguish any chance of escape when he slaps you on your arse or kisses your nape, and he’s leaving without saying bye.
And you would queue up to listen to him pissing and hang around to watch some poor girl blub, and then they chase him down the avenue, incessently pestering him to let you join the club.
He knows how to put a cork in the foot, and just how to shut up the charming ones of us, and they’ve seen him talking to your lady friend…
There’s a dust track waiting for betrayal where he’ll teach you all the bits they missed…
Nice try, you cannot turn away, but nice try.

A los que no volvieron nunca más, que peleaban por sus ideas y contra las injusticias…

a quienes los buscan incansablemente sin perder las fuerzas y las esperanzas…
a quienes, gracias a que no abandonaron la lucha, hemos recuperado…
Hoy, particularmente, a Estela y Guido, que se dieron ese tan…

la magia de los rocanroles…

la magia de los rocanroles…

Pussyfooting, setting sun.
Make a wish that weighs a ton… There are no handles for you to hold, and no understanding where it goes.
Jealousy in technicolor. Fear by name, love by numbers.
Streetlight amber, wanderlust. 
Clouded rainbow, blunderbuss…
She looks as if she’s blowing a kiss at me, and suddenly the sky is a scissor. Sitting on the floor with a tambourine, crushing up a bundle of love
Don’t take it so personally, you’re not the only one that time has got it in for, honey…
that’s where you’re wrong.

Damas y caballeros, tengo mi entrada para los Arctic Monkeys en Buenos Aires.
Si guacho, si.