my lover Johnny

my lover is like Johnny Cash

like Clyde he stole me away

like Bonnie i did not protest

i am no June, more like the fall

of Cat Power

without the suicidality

without the beauty

without the voice

but

with bangs, with bottle

by the callejones; we live in bars

and dance, doing the washing machine on tables

we are believers

part of the Joy Division cult

we sweat, dehydrate, and robotize our arms

and these rings of fire meet to kiss

and it burns, burns, burns

do you hear

the Echo

it’s

the Underground,

the punk'n'drunks are baptizing us

and it burns, burns, burns

it's something more than two scorpions

our horoscopes predict

how we will venomize each other

oh but my Johnny boy is golden

and this will last past dawn going down to day

oh how my Johnny boy, wears thumb rings

his metal cools my blushing

Mark Twain, you should see us blush

we are human, so human

when i fell into like

i looked at his hands

when i fell into love

i was drinking red wine

with seven up

and he was swinging his guitar

without the suicidality

without the cardigans

without the grunge

but

with voice, with depth

and those angels, they're going to envy us

they can't eat hot dogs de la calle

wrapped in bacon, grilled blacken onions

steam puffing out against

the chilling and killing

acid rain

smear the ketchup with jalapeños

without the mustard

without the diet

without the napkins

but

with churros, with bottle

two please

oh my Johnny boy drives me in his carcacha

to Santa Monica pier,

always buys

me tickets for the shooting games

and his

guitar playing hand

takes

my harmonica playing hand

down to the end of the boardwalk

mmmm, my Johnny boy

mmmm, squeeze me tight

we know, Ian and Kurt know, Buddy, Ritchie, Bopper know,

Selena knows; the day the music dies,

love will tear us apart

go ask Naranjo como, voy a explotar

until then, look at this kingdom by the sea