Crónica de Un Nacimiento
Calle 13
Chronicle of a Birth
On the twenty-ninth of November in the year 2005
By accident, the resident was born.
The resident took over the media suddenly
Almost like a robbery.
He got inside the body of a young man
In Trujillo Alto.
To the young Rene Perez
He turned him into his puppet
He ripped off his last name
He took away his whole identity
He stole his family
He took away his girlfriend
He tied up his head
To a trunk full of all his phobias.
He put a gun in his mouth
And two rifles in each ear
(Don't kill me)
(Shut up, I don't want complaints
And don't raise your eyebrows)
The resident shouted, crazed
Awakening all the sleepers in that world
With a knife, the resident ripped off the skin from his face
Young Rene Perez was barely breathing
He told the resident with courage and disgust
(Now I'm going to disconnect the studio cables)
As if by magic, the Resident disappeared
Through those confusing worlds
No one else saw him.
And without music
Residente Calle Trece cannot exist.
Listening to it
Is the only way to bring it back to life.
It took a fool to come
And listen to his music
For Residente Calle Trece
To visit us again.
