“But Paris was a very old city and we were young and nothing was simple there, not even poverty, nor sudden money, nor the moonlight, nor right and wrong nor the breathing of someone who lay beside you in the moonlight.”
"París era una fiesta"
Friday, 1 February 2013
Did you hear the news about Edward? On the back of his head he had another face Was it a woman’s face or a young girl? They said to remove it would kill him So poor Edward was doomed
The face could laugh and cry It was his devil twin And at night she spoke to him Things heard only in hell But they were impossible to separate Chained together for life
Finally the bell tolled his doom He took a suite of rooms And hung himself and her from the balcony irons Some still believe he was freed from her But I knew her too well I say she drove him to suicide And took poor Edward to hell