T. Hakola-words & music, vocals, guitars <br />Bénédicte Villain-violin & accordion, Delphine Ciampi-Ellis-bass & baritone guitar, Zoé Hochberg-drums, Laure Slabiak-backing vocals, <br />info/contact: www.theohakola.com <br /><br />YOUR BABY BLACKS, BABY <br /><br />Black Catalan eyes, black barely open Catalan eyes <br />Black barely open Catalan eyes like swallows feinting and dashing <br />Dive-bombing my brittle bones <br /><br />Black Catalan eyes, black barely open Catalan eyes <br />Black barely open Catalan eyes like Zeros banking and crashing <br />In flames in my frangible zones <br /><br />Black Catalan eye torpedos, raven beauties aglow <br />They’re dastardly deeds, those Stygian beads <br />depth charges blowing holes, undoing all I know <br />Shock waves of ebony overflow, seismic sardanas on a roll <br />Below-the-belt whacks, your baby blacks, baby... <br />Those ocular bells, oh they do toll, from the Pyrenees to the Ebro <br /><br />Black Catalan eyes ajar, portals to dark waters <br />Windows all but open, doors all but shut <br />On the sun inside there burning, in the brightest of God’s daughters <br />As I stand outside there yearning to crack her nut <br /><br />There’s splendor in her grass and wonder in her hills <br />and in her unstrung arms, a sassy siren’s song trills <br />I watched her and I listened, saw how her words glistened <br />Each one by her tongue christened in sexual water rills <br />Each one a mean machine that kills <br /><br />Black Catalan eyes, black barely open Catalan eyes <br />Black barely open Catalan eyes like swallows darting and dashing <br />Dancing over the thunder <br /><br />Black Catalan eyes, black barely open Catalan eyes <br />Black barely open Catalan eyes like Zeros barking and crashing <br />And tearing me asunder <br /><br />With every shrine to ‘39 like the walls of Jericho <br />Tumbling down to cleanse the land of Jose Antonio <br />Pissing on the grave of the Generalissimo <br />You came to see the blood in the streets for Pablo <br />In Federico’s tracks, your baby blacks, baby... <br />Sing a Cante jondo <br /> <br />Kicking off her shoes she issues from the haze <br />Her inky eyes open just enough to charge my wires <br />With a mouth like a mortar firing curses ablaze <br />She’ll have from me all her heart requires <br /><br />I’m praying for those Catalan eyes to give me a sign <br />Begging for those Catalan legs to walk my way <br />Dreaming of a time those Catalan lands will be mine <br />And the day those Catalan hands make me their clay <br /> The day those baby blacks make me their prey <br />
