De pronto, me he acordado que hay una canción de Sting sobre la calle Bourbon (¿New Orleans, quizás? Da igual) Es la historia de un vampiro solitario y triste. Me la sé de memoria. La calle Bourbon tardará en tener ese aspecto de la foto, el de la ciudad más europea de EEUU.There’s a moon over bourbon street tonight.
I see faces as they pass beneath the pale lamplight
I’ve no choice but to follow that call
The bright lights, the people, and the moon and all
I pray everyday to be strong
For I know what I do must be wrong
Oh you’ll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet
While there’s a moon over bourbon street
It was many years ago that I became what I am
I was trapped in this life like an innocent lamb
Now I can only show my face at noon
And you’ll only see me walking by the light of the moonT
he brim of my hat hides the eye of a beast
I’ve the face of a sinner but the hands of a priest
Oh you’ll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet
While there’s a moon over bourbon street
She walks everyday through the streets of new orleans
She’s innocent and young from a family of means
I have stood many times outside her window at night
To struggle with my instinct in the pale moon light
How could I be this way when I pray to God above
I must love what I destroy and destroy the thing I love
Oh you’ll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet
While there’s a moon over bourbon street
