No Me Busques

I don't belong to this time.
I find myself trapped in something uncertain.
I don't want a candle at that burial.
My music speaks very clearly, don't look for me.
Your game is not my game.
Don't look for me anymore, don't force me,
don't pressure me anymore.
In my short life, I still have a cherub,
and I hope to fill the clock sweating this humility that is my happiness.
I hope to release the body without regret.
I don't know, I don't know why, but I need to consecrate myself.
Something inside me asks for it, I need to cleanse myself
from certain social inventions that I don't want to swallow anymore,
from certain inventions that I don't want to deal with.
It's not that I don't give thanks for life.
It's just that I'm not the missing piece in that space, in this time.
No, I'm not that piece. I want to grow simple, like grass.
Plant my seed in the garden.
Life has shown me a window to another place and I no longer jump back.
My art is my truth, and I don't want to stain it.
No. I go to myself.. because I don't lie.
I go to myself.. because I sing my truth.
I go to myself.. and as far as I'm concerned, my art doesn't have to change.
Stop it.. Your words are grimaces.
Stop it.. Everything you say shows, stop it..
that for you we are just a bigger number in your count.
Not everything is what it seems, so count, add up, and recount.
Don't be crabby, stop the nonsense, codfish.
Be careful. You count on our talent,
and it's not just any invention.
There's nothing fake between us, there's no malice. Stop playing.
I don't want a candle at that burial,
My music speaks very clearly, don't look for me.