¿Por Qué a Mí?

He was a sharp, smart kid
An excellent athlete, the captain
His life was soccer, his passion
Hanging out with his friends, feeling that vibe
Good student, like every afternoon
Training his skills in the park
An injury stopped him in his tracks
It was a strain, his dad thought nervously
Right leg, checkup, X-ray
Exactly, a strain was what he had
The treatment, a painkiller in a shot
Physical therapy for two weeks, then rest
The pain flares up, no improvement
The doctor's eyes turn sad
Looks from the thorax that make you cry
Make a mother scream, drowning in her tears
My soul aches, my heart beats in silence, little by
Little it fades, my face ages, tears fall
God, we don’t deserve this agony
Seventeen years, it makes no sense
Damn cancer wants to take my son
Why me, you fucking cancer, I curse you
Why me, I don’t deserve this punishment

No, don’t take him, he’s so young, my boy wants to live
No, don’t take him, it makes no sense, why not take me instead

Sarcoma, the devil’s name
Misery, agonizing
Fuck, who do I talk to?
It’s stealing my wife’s youth
All day praying, months crying
Radiation therapy, treatment with rays
Side effects lead to fainting
In the operating room, we attack cold-blooded
Surgery, our hope shines
Days pass, months go by
An MRI shakes our souls
The tumor reproduces, grows
Seduces death, betting on destruction
Chemotherapy, my hair disappears
My teammates shave their heads, and I appreciate it
Everything gets complicated
I’ll leave without knowing the feeling of a girl

No, don’t take him, he’s so young, my boy wants to live
No, don’t take him, it makes no sense, why not take me instead

I get discharged, back to my home
I won’t die, I’m young, my parents support me
Fatigue and sleep sometimes take over
My love is a white weapon, it’s called morphine
It helps me dream, I can fly
And escape the bitter tears of a wounded heart
Flying above my home
In a lunar landscape
My secret hideaway
And when I wake up, my rage turns to tears
Why me, I drown in a scream to the sky
The sweet goddess of death approaches
Poor thing, with her hair or the silence of mourning
It helps me dream, I can fly, I forget
Suicidal thoughts
My spirit floods with peace
Sweet dreams, my girl watches over me

No, don’t take him, he’s so young, my boy wants to live
And no, don’t take him, it makes no sense, why not take me instead
Don’t take him, oh no, no, don’t take him
Oh oh oh, aaaaah