Nada Para Mi
La Castañeda
Nothing for Me
And from all this,
And from all this,
And from all this,
What do I have to show for it?
And from all this,
What do I have to show for it?
A scream runs toward the future,
Like a cloud of ash.
The sick from the crisis,
Smoke boredom on the corners.
And this time dies fast,
'Cause the devil's messing with it.
Don't confuse the days anymore,
Or fill them with routine.
And this time dies fast,
'Cause the devil's messing with it.
Oh, there's nothing for me.
Oh, there's nothing for me.
Oh, there's nothing for me.
Oh, there's nothing for you.
And from all this,
And from all this,
And from all this,
What do I have to show for it?
And from all this,
What do I have to show for it?
Stress is your tattoo,
And you're bursting with rage.
An old vice still lingers,
It's called wastefulness.
And this time dies fast,
'Cause the devil's messing with it.
Don't confuse the days anymore,
Or fill them with routine.
And this time dies fast,
'Cause the devil's messing with it.
Oh, there's nothing for me.
Oh, there's nothing for me.
Oh, there's nothing for me.
Oh, there's nothing for you.
And from all this,
And from all this.
