Respiro

Sit down, don't be afraid, tell me everything
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out!

These endless avenues abduct me
Thoughtfully smoking without looking at every crossroad
When a rhythm seduces me, my devil comes out
To play with the fire that this state produces
Not tired, not in a bad mood, just ignited and corrupted
By the damages received

I load Praetorians, Spartans, and tertiaries, inquisitors
Legionnaires, neighborhood police
Mud your mud, filthy, with your car, oh
You act like a bad boy and I tear you apart
I rob the banks of words and abracadabra!
There will be more words and fewer bullets

For the children of death who feel nothing
Until it hurts them
For the children of the worker who never rests
Until they die
For the children of death who feel nothing
Until it hurts them
For the children of the screams of my city
This is for you

(Sitting in the park smoking my fingers
Asshole is my problem, don't get in the middle and believe it
If you want, I swear, with one finger I'll polish you and, with two, you already look ridiculous)

It's time to live the moment, to see every dead dream born
The rain outside keeps alerting me, like liters of blood in this war of mine
Shoot me, don't leave me wounded, silver bullets don't kill this vampire
Give me a break
I wish to be clean of all impurity, of laziness and punishment
I pursue nothing but preside over my life
With the cynical optimism that guides the day that confines me in a silent city
Full of noise and sneezing justice

For the children of death who feel nothing
Until it hurts them
For the children of the worker who never rests
Until they die
For the children of death who feel nothing
Until it hurts them
For the children of the screams of my city
This is for you

In case time doesn't forgive, we've broken the calendar
And we'll keep singing and dancing, giving war on stages
In case time doesn't forgive, we've broken the calendar
And we'll keep singing and dancing, giving war on stages

For the children of death
For the children of the worker
For the children of death
This is for you

And if you want, I swear, with one finger I'll polish you and, with two, you already look ridiculous

For the children of death who feel nothing
Until it hurts them
For the children of the worker who never rests
Until they die
For the children of death who feel nothing
Until it hurts them
For the children of the screams of my city
This is for you

Until it hurts them, until it hurts them
Until they die, until they die
Until it hurts them, until it hurts them

For the children of the screams of my city
This is for you

Until it hurts them, until it hurts them
Until they die, until they die
Until it hurts them, until it hurts them
For the children of the screams of my city