have to say something,
or die, exploit,
have desire of shouting,
so much hear good words,
joint celebrations of swollen bellies,
conversations about the world
in a terrace of a bar in Barcelona,
between(among) children with careers(races)
and without corns in the hands,
this it is the problem,
there is neither sincerity nor authentic interest,
only masks of complacency,
but I see what they are,
always I have seen it, and because of it I am mad,
doomed(condemned) to die alone
have to say something,
or die, exploit,
have desire of shouting,
doomed(condemned) to die alone
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1 comentario:
you're not condemned to die alone.
i used to thought about loneliness in the city, but now i've realised that it's a problem on its own.
it's funny to have new adverts of new bands and songs from you, now that you're introducing yourself in that freak world of partitures and pink cheeky basses.
red russian is my new find out point, although their lyrics are far away from the deep and appropiate meaning of this pork plant, tree, or whatever. thank you for that song, by the way. i'll keep it with the Story Anthems.
go on composing, writing and living.
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