Today I woke up with the opposite foot:
Too much blood on the news,
A single letter I have in the mailbox,
The bank sends it to me, it says no;
My wife has left with a lawyer
That he pays him the vices, that he wins the judgments.
And you, what are you going with? Who do you call old man?
I tell the cocoon behind the mirror;
I'm a tough guy with iron will
That goes out into the street, provoking the future.
And I floor on the sidewalk a dog shit,
And I get to work late, and the railing,
With a kick in the ass he sends me to hell.
And the chorus says: m'alegro, p'alante
The unemployment queue is not for singers.
So I'm going to the phoniatrist's office
That tells me that I will never be frank sinatra.
And I come out defeated again at night
And the crane has taken my car;
To celebrate I ask for another drink
And a little girl throws up in my clothes;
And it rains, and a taxi that looks like a boat
It overwhelms me and leaves me sitting in a puddle.
And in fits and starts I arrive to the casino
To tempt fate in the form of roulette,
And fate pays me by leaving me in panties
Stinking of wine and fourteen pesetas.
And seeing that the planet has me in checkmate
I decide to put it on my own in the toilet
And, while I relieve myself in that way,
I take a tremendous pinch on an egg
With the new zipper closure,
And I notice annoying tickling
From the fly to the crown:
And I discover that I have crabs!
And I scratch, and I shave, and I cut myself
-I only needed to have an abortion.
Choir of pringados: this is too much,
Not only cuckold but beaten.
And when I decide to end this shit
A little bit of hanging me, I broke the rope
And, instead of cheering, I'm left with the desire
To travel to hell through that window;
And the choir says: a gentleman
Do not jump into space from a first floor
And to patita I leave in the plaza de santa ana
To make a bar in another disco
Infested of guiris, bolingas, taquimecas,
And a fake firecracker arrives to my side
Saying that she is a friend of panchito varona:
you look like a good person
In search of a little rogue roll
Are you going to invite me to a line?
I wish I had, beautiful, I swear
For the glory of my mother I come without a hard.
but encourage that little face so serious
That you're on your lucky night, kid.
And, in the middle of a hysterical attack of hysteria,
I land on the runway without being able to escape
From the smell of bodies
-suspening, sweating-
From the heat of the lights
-swinging, turning-
From my legs trembling,
From my mouth screaming: that's not it,
Not that, please, have mercy,
Do not you understand that I do not sleep ...
Do not sleep ...
I can not stand rap,
I can not stand rap,
Do not sleep ...
Do not sleep ...
I can not stand the rap ?.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)