ladies and gentleman, mr. Johnny Cash

En un par de días salgo para un viaje largo,

lejos del computador, lejos del celular, lejos del reloj.

Este es el disco al que le estoy dando palo ahora.
Los dejo con el buen amigo Johnny, que los acompañe mientras vuelvo.

Me voy el verano. Nos vemos en Agosto.

Mi canción favorita del señor Cash, por ahora, una obra maestra: When the man comes around.

And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder: One of the four beasts saying:
"Come and see."

And I saw.
And behold, a white horse.

There's a man
goin' 'round takin' names. An' he decides who to free and who to blame.
Everybody won't be treated all the same.
There'll be a golden ladder
reaching down.
When the man comes around.
The hairs on your arm will stand up.
At the terror in each sip and in each sup.
For you partake of that last offered cup, Or disappear into the potter's ground.

When the man comes around.

Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers.
One hundred million angels singin'. Multitudes are marching to the big kettle drum.
Voices callin', voices cryin'. Some are born an' some are dyin'. It's Alpha's and Omega's Kingdom come. And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree. The virgins are all trimming their wicks. The whirlwind is in the thorn tree. It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks.

Till Armageddon, no Shalam, no Shalom.
Then the father hen will call his chickens home.

The wise men will bow down before the throne. And at his feet they'll cast their
golden crown. When the man comes around. Whoever is unjust, let him be unjust
still. Whoever is righteous, let him be righteous still. Whoever is filthy, let
him be filthy still. Listen to the words long written down, When the man comes
around.

Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers. One hundred million angels singin'. Multitudes are marchin' to the big kettle drum. Voices callin', voices cryin'. Some are born an' some are dyin'. It's Alpha's and Omega's Kingdom come. And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree. The virgins are all trimming their wicks. The whirlwind is in the thorn tree. It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks. In measured hundredweight and penny pound.

When the man comes around.

And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts,
And I looked and behold:
a pale horse.

And his name, that sat on him, was Death.

And Hell followed with him.