Buscarse La Vida

Yes
It's the Great D
Cin Sharif the incredible
Back in the studio
Raising the mercury
Making a living is like
He says
He says
He says, he says, he says

When there's no bread, no God to fill your fridge
When the cold winter doesn't end in spring
Dude, it doesn't matter the race, nor the color of the flag
Bare necessity teaches more than a career

And this is the story of a 13-year-old boy
Who is a friend of the stolen and brother of disillusionment
One of those kids who has grown up in poverty
But knows how to be happy laughing at sadness
He gets up when the sun hasn't risen yet and sleeps
He dresses without making the slightest noise

Chosen, the eldest of six malnourished siblings
He has a father and a mother and no one knows where they've gone
But he goes out on the street and walks down the avenue
He's a magician of those who always find a way out
He has a master's and postgraduate degree in making a living

And his siblings never lack a plate of food
Come on, he's got initiative, yes
And a couple of soles that haven't touched school for half a lifetime
And he sails adrift in a cinnamon boat
And the wind of freedom inflates his sails even more
And yes, he has no God, no safety net
No brand on his jersey, no other law than his own
Hey, hey

You'll always see him running ahead of the cops
Or behind a woman
He's an artist, illustrious, trapeze artist
Equilibrist, vigilante, more realistic, never seen
He's a dreamer of chimeras and an escapist from the lists of borders

Alchemist, mentalist, and first-rate pickpocket, yes
If he manages to get a good loot
He doesn't care about misery or a hole in his sock
Because he returns home proud to know
That there will be bread for today and another sunrise tomorrow

And making a living is like
A gypsy love is like
Your little brother frequent like
A pain of disillusionment, strong and hard like falling on the asphalt

And making a living is like
A gypsy love is like
Your little brother frequent like
A pain of disillusionment, strong and hard like falling on the asphalt

Graduated in economics
To get through 31 days
To heat the house and many cold nights
You don't need to be a mathematician
In the street, a professor
Dramatic family situation
Romantic, at 13 he grows up
To the family love

And to the girlfriend what she deserves
Who turns corners and doesn't lie
Who stumbles upon drugs and mocks death
In his clan, there's never a lack of bread
Tell me, what will they do if one day they're not there anymore
That the mother has lost her gaze
At the bottom of an American bar
Brave child who at 13
Is making a name for himself
Singing lullabies to his little sister in bed
Week after week
Week after week
Week after week

And I've seen you at the traffic light
Selling tissues
Asking for change at the cinema entrance
Cars passing by with Alpine logos
And you covered in cold with magazines
What did you do that now
The sky is your roof

And your chest settles
On the unsatisfied ground
Maybe life passed you by
And the bills came with surcharges
Maybe the drinks didn't help you solve it
That's life between covers
Making a living is like, is like, is like

And making a living is like
A gypsy love is like
Your little brother frequent like
A pain of disillusionment, strong and hard like falling on the asphalt
And making a living is like
A gypsy love is like
Your little brother frequent like
A pain of disillusionment, strong and hard like falling on the asphalt