Desde el redil
Konsumo Respeto
From the Pen
Poor homeless guy, they feel sorry for you
You fly so clumsily, scaring off all the red
What a lunatic, you seize the chance
To insult yourself and see a loser in you
Make a name for yourself, then just sleep it off
Wise words that could really help you out
You’re in your heaven, with clouds of gray
You fall in your heaven, a stamp of the unhappy
And who can tell you, that you can’t be this way
That you have no future, they tell you from the pen
Blue lights, trying to trap you
You run and flee, but to nowhere at all
You’ve outsmarted, the one smarter than you
Incompetents, waiting for their coffin
What a wonder, the Moon shines again
The Sun walks, to jump up and down
"Go back home!" says the little bear
"Fuck off!" you reply like a gentleman
And who can tell you, that you can’t be this way
That you have no future, they tell you from the pen
Now locked up, your heart spins around
You’re lying down, looking for a solution
Strong anesthesia, the one you took somewhere
What do they know about what it means to be happy?
