Como de Costumbre

"He woke up at eight, as usual,
he got into the shower, brushed his teeth
and in his old suit, as usual,
he left his house at twenty past eight.

He pushed in the Metro, as usual;
some go up and others below
and at nine o'clock, as usual,
he said "good morning" and entered his work.

The cold office, as usual,
the same papers, the same problems,
the same colleagues, as usual,
with the same schedule and the same topics.

Everything is routine, as usual,
everything is a long sheet of tedium,
the hours stretch, as usual,
all inhabiting an empty clock.

He returned home, as usual.
He turned on the TV and waited for dinner.
He ate in silence, as usual,
in the bad night and in the good night.

He said goodbye to the children, as usual,
and he was left alone, watching a melodrama,
she was already asleep, as usual,
when he finally got into bed.

He touched her shoulder, as usual
and she resigned herself immediately,
then turned her back, as usual,
hugged the pillow and fell asleep.

Everything is routine, as usual,
everything is a long chain of tedium,
the desires stretch, as usual,
all inhabiting an empty world.

He woke up at nine, as usual,
every Sunday on his calendar
and went to the countryside, as usual,
with the family in the utility vehicle.

Always to the same place, as usual,
he had a cheap lunch at a snack bar
and around five o'clock, as usual,
he joined the return of the Sunday drivers.

One behind the other, as usual...
One behind the other in the caravan
wheel to wheel, as usual,
repeated story every week.

Everything is routine, as usual.
Everything is a long chain of tedium,
the days stretch, as usual,
all inhabiting an empty time.

He woke up at eight, as usual,
he got into the shower, brushed his teeth
and in his old body, as usual,
he left his house at eight and... always.