En Traducidas.net encontrará la traducción al castellano de las letras de Regina Spektor y muchos artistas y grupos más
My rhyme ain't good just yet,
My brain and tongue just met,
And they ain't friends, so far,
My words don't travel far,
They tangle in my hair,
And tend to go nowhere,
They grow right back inside,
Right past my brain and eyes
Into my stomach juice
Where they don't serve my juice,
All melted calories,
Nutrition values.
And I absorb back in
The words right through my skin
They sit there festering inside my bowels
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
Got a soundtrack in my mind,
All the time. Kids-
Screamin' from too much beat up
And they don't even rhyme,
They just stand there, on a street corner,
Skin tucked in
And meat side out and shot,
And I'd like to turn them down
But there ain't no knob.
Run into picket fences
Not into picket lines.
All this hippie-shit for the 60's
And another cliché for our time. But,
But a one of these days your heart
Will just stop ticking,
And they sorta just don't find you till your cubicle is reeking.
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
Ahh ah ah ah ahh ah ah ah
Did you know that the gravedigger's still
Gettin' stuck in the machine
Even tough it's a whole other daydream.
It's another town it's another world,
Where the kids are asleep, where the loans are paid
And the lawns are mowed.
Whad'ya think?
All the gravediggers were gone?
Just cause one song is done
There's always another one,
Waiting right around the bend,
Till this one ends,
Then it begins
Quickly, then it starts all over again.
The weather report keeps on
Tossing and turning,
Predicting and warning,
And warning and warning of,
Possibly it could be news publications and,
Possibly it could be news TV stations. That
Very same morning right next to her coffee
She noticed some bleeding and heard hollow coughing and
National Geographic was being too graphic,
When all she had wanted to know was the traffic
?The worlds got a nosebleed? it said
?And we're flooding but we keep on cutting
The trees and the forests!?
And we keep on paying those freaks on the TV,
Who claim they will save us but want to enslave us.
And sweating like demons they scream through our speakers
But we leave the sound on 'cause silence is harder.
And no one's the killer and no one's the martyr
The world that has made us can no longer contain us
And profits are silent then rotting away 'cause
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds.
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds.
Ah ah ah?
My rhyme ain't good just yet,
My brain and tongue just met,
And they aint friends, so far,
My words don't travel far,
They tangle in my hair,
And tend to go nowhere,
They grow right back inside,
Right past my brain and eyes
Into my stomach juice
Where they don't serve my juice,
All melted calories,
Nutrition values.
And I absorb back in
The words right through my skin
They sit there festering inside my bowels
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
Mi rima no es bueno por el momento,
Mi cerebro y la lengua acaba de conocer,
Y no son amigos, hasta ahora,
Mis palabras no viajan lejos,
Se enredan en mi pelo,
Y tienden a ir a ninguna parte,
Crecen derecho a entrar,
Justo delante de mi cerebro y los ojos
En mi jugo del estómago
Donde no sirven mi jugo,
Todas las calorías derretidas,
Los valores nutricionales.
Y me absorben de nuevo en
Las palabras correctas a través de mi piel
Se sientan allí enconada dentro de mis entrañas
Las consonantes y las vocales
La consecuencia de sonidos
Las consonantes y las vocales
La consecuencia de sonidos
¿Tienes una banda sonora en mi mente,
Todo el tiempo. Niños-
Screamin 'debido al exceso de una paliza
Y ni siquiera rima,
Ellos te quedes ahí parado, en una esquina de la calle,
Metido en la piel
Y la carne hacia fuera y tiro,
Y me gustaría que les baje
Pero no hay ningún mando.
Ejecutar en vallas
No en las líneas de piquete.
Todo esto hippie de mierda de los años 60
Y otra clichfor nuestro tiempo. Pero,
Sin embargo, un día de estos tu corazón
Sólo dejará de tic-tac,
Y sorta simplemente no encuentra
Ayúdanos a mejorar, si encuentras errores ¡Envíanos tu corrección!
Regina Spektor
Consequence of sounds
Consequence of sounds
My rhyme ain't good just yet,
My brain and tongue just met,
And they ain't friends, so far,
My words don't travel far,
They tangle in my hair,
And tend to go nowhere,
They grow right back inside,
Right past my brain and eyes
Into my stomach juice
Where they don't serve my juice,
All melted calories,
Nutrition values.
And I absorb back in
The words right through my skin
They sit there festering inside my bowels
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
Got a soundtrack in my mind,
All the time. Kids-
Screamin' from too much beat up
And they don't even rhyme,
They just stand there, on a street corner,
Skin tucked in
And meat side out and shot,
And I'd like to turn them down
But there ain't no knob.
Run into picket fences
Not into picket lines.
All this hippie-shit for the 60's
And another cliché for our time. But,
But a one of these days your heart
Will just stop ticking,
And they sorta just don't find you till your cubicle is reeking.
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
Ahh ah ah ah ahh ah ah ah
Did you know that the gravedigger's still
Gettin' stuck in the machine
Even tough it's a whole other daydream.
It's another town it's another world,
Where the kids are asleep, where the loans are paid
And the lawns are mowed.
Whad'ya think?
All the gravediggers were gone?
Just cause one song is done
There's always another one,
Waiting right around the bend,
Till this one ends,
Then it begins
Quickly, then it starts all over again.
The weather report keeps on
Tossing and turning,
Predicting and warning,
And warning and warning of,
Possibly it could be news publications and,
Possibly it could be news TV stations. That
Very same morning right next to her coffee
She noticed some bleeding and heard hollow coughing and
National Geographic was being too graphic,
When all she had wanted to know was the traffic
?The worlds got a nosebleed? it said
?And we're flooding but we keep on cutting
The trees and the forests!?
And we keep on paying those freaks on the TV,
Who claim they will save us but want to enslave us.
And sweating like demons they scream through our speakers
But we leave the sound on 'cause silence is harder.
And no one's the killer and no one's the martyr
The world that has made us can no longer contain us
And profits are silent then rotting away 'cause
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds.
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds.
Ah ah ah?
My rhyme ain't good just yet,
My brain and tongue just met,
And they aint friends, so far,
My words don't travel far,
They tangle in my hair,
And tend to go nowhere,
They grow right back inside,
Right past my brain and eyes
Into my stomach juice
Where they don't serve my juice,
All melted calories,
Nutrition values.
And I absorb back in
The words right through my skin
They sit there festering inside my bowels
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
Regina Spektor
Consecuencia de los sonidos
Consecuencia de los sonidos
Mi rima no es bueno por el momento,
Mi cerebro y la lengua acaba de conocer,
Y no son amigos, hasta ahora,
Mis palabras no viajan lejos,
Se enredan en mi pelo,
Y tienden a ir a ninguna parte,
Crecen derecho a entrar,
Justo delante de mi cerebro y los ojos
En mi jugo del estómago
Donde no sirven mi jugo,
Todas las calorías derretidas,
Los valores nutricionales.
Y me absorben de nuevo en
Las palabras correctas a través de mi piel
Se sientan allí enconada dentro de mis entrañas
Las consonantes y las vocales
La consecuencia de sonidos
Las consonantes y las vocales
La consecuencia de sonidos
¿Tienes una banda sonora en mi mente,
Todo el tiempo. Niños-
Screamin 'debido al exceso de una paliza
Y ni siquiera rima,
Ellos te quedes ahí parado, en una esquina de la calle,
Metido en la piel
Y la carne hacia fuera y tiro,
Y me gustaría que les baje
Pero no hay ningún mando.
Ejecutar en vallas
No en las líneas de piquete.
Todo esto hippie de mierda de los años 60
Y otra clichfor nuestro tiempo. Pero,
Sin embargo, un día de estos tu corazón
Sólo dejará de tic-tac,
Y sorta simplemente no encuentra
Ayúdanos a mejorar, si encuentras errores ¡Envíanos tu corrección!
