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Déjà Vu - Roger Waters

 Déjà Vu

Roger Waters


Lyrics:

If I had been God
I would have rearranged the veins in the face to make them more resistant to alcohol and less prone to ageing
If I had been God
I would have sired many sons and I would not have suffered the Romans to kill even one of them
If I had been God
With my staff and my rod
If I had been given the nod
I believe I could have done a better job

If I were a drone
Patrolling foreign skies
With my electronic eyes for guidance
And the element of surprise
I would be afraid to find someone home
Maybe a woman at a stove
Baking bread, making rice, or just boiling down some bones
If I were a drone

The temple's in ruins
The bankers get fat
The buffalo's gone
And the mountain top's flat
The trout in the streams are all hermaphrodites
You lean to the left but you walk to the right

And it feels like déjà vu
The sun goes down and I'm still missing you
Counting the cost of love that got lost
And under my Gulf Stream, in circular balls
There's ninety-nine cents worth of drunkards and fools
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letra:

Si hubiese sido Dios
Habría reorganizado las venas de la cara para hacerlas más resistentes al alcohol y menos propensas a envejecer
Si hubiese sido Dios
Habría tenido muchos hijos y nunca habría lamentado que los romanos mataran siquiera a uno de ellos
Si hubiese sido Dios
Con mi equipo y mi vara
Si me hubiesen dado la señal
Creo que pude haber hecho un mejor trabajo


Si fuera un dron
Patrullando cielos foráneos
Con mis ojos electrónicos para la dirección
Y el elemento de la sorpresa
Tendría miedo de encontrar a alguien en casa
Tal vez una mujer en la estufa
Horneando pan, haciendo arroz, o simplemente hirviendo algunos huesos
Si fuera un dron

El templo está en ruinas
Los banqueros engordan
El búfalo se ha ido
Y la cima de la montaña está plana
Las truchas de las corrientes son todas hermafroditas
Te apoyas hacia la izquierda pero caminas hacia la derecha

Y parece un deja vu
El sol se oculta y aún te extraño
Contando estoy el costo del amor que se perdió
Y bajo mi Corriente del Golfo, en bolas circulares
Hay un valor de noventa y nueve centavos en borrachos y tontos

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