Truco & Goce

Playing tricks on the desire that feeds you
Pleasure satisfies that craving that always grows (x2)

The last rum's gone, I’m not falling off my seat
No regrets, I’m clean and it’s not conservative morals
It’s the practice and the use of a thousand vices that decorate
I’m a rebellious child of pure capitalism
And understanding your position in the process
Is a result of a more mature moment
Aware of global exploitation and sweatshops in Cambodia
And a pair of Nikes I won’t throw away
Because they give me a second of victory
With clean clothes on Sunday in Congo Square
They’ve taken everything from us
And for a moment we regain confidence with white t-shirts
Fresh and new from the package on the scale
And a hat that keeps my ideas safe and shocks the academics
With this scandalous style
That protects my instincts from any stage fright
The new crack is legal in the eyes of the bureaucrat
It’s the campaign strategy of the Democrat
It’s the trophy of the oppressed
It’s the necessary bait of honor never lost
The one from Uncle Sam in pain
Because I live in a place where you have to play tricks on desire to access pleasure
Play tricks on desire to be able to access pleasure
Access pleasure

Playing tricks on the desire that feeds you
Pleasure satisfies that craving that always grows. (x4)

Playing tricks on the desire that feeds you

And this isn’t the promotion
Belligerent consumption that the state has designed
The reinterpretation that makes the norm uncomfortable
The Duke of Burgundy adorned his fur
The lady who ironed an old jacket, dressing up the rags
It’s the smallest victory of comfort
The shine of someone living as a cousin of the underground
I’m dreaming I’d like to be a thief to take a little
To get you on that plane
To manage a settlement
But the council is bought and credit is denied
To those with marks of the past on their face
And in the present, even if you get it
There’s no currency that can pay for the utopia
Like these lyrics that are dismissed for lack of blood
How can you deny this second subjective joy
How do you question that this garment from a discount store I’ve turned into rebellion
We’ve turned it into rebellion
It’s the trophy of the oppressed
It’s the necessary bait of honor never lost
The one from Uncle Sam in pain
Because I live in a place where you have to play tricks on desire to access pleasure
Play tricks on desire to be able to access pleasure
Access pleasure

Playing tricks on the desire that feeds you
Pleasure satisfies that craving that always grows (x4)