24 Simpre

When I say I'm fine, I mention it with doubt
Hardly closed off to receiving help
Still, always alert to the hand that greets
Because while love screams, bad intentions are mute

I'm a nervous guy, my hands always sweat
Brought me luck, but goodbye to Buddha's belly
It's been weird even in the roughest stages
Because I lived them with my soul laid bare

And don’t ask me for advice, I don’t know what to say
Better ask me for a hand, I can give you that
I don’t know how to accept apologies or thanks
As a result, I can’t give them back

They say life is one and we came to feel
I think my existence is meant to create
I’m one who makes art to be able to live
And living off art, that’s the art of love

I want to feel happy, sing my suffering
Forget for a while what I used to feel
How huge is the temple and how annoying is this
That the rest want me, but not who I wanted

I’m the worst, I accept it
To accept your affection just to not have it and want it the next day
How weak is my body, how weak I am inside
And how strong I am outside, because if I don’t say it, I wouldn’t know

I lock myself in my room, waiting for my patience
To end this competition between my conscience and my ego
I’m held back by the obligation to live with her absence
And the remnants of her presence witness a goodbye

Flashes of disappointment appear in my head
Dreaming that one day she returns to her promise of see you
Only reason remains, because the heart doesn’t think
And this headache weighs more than any 'I love you'

And I keep living for the people who stayed with me
Because they don’t doubt the merits I achieve
They always give me encouragement, even if I don’t ask
With the stick they measure me, I measure them

And I ask for respect for the dead and also for the living
For the good friends, because there are no enemies
I’m left wanting to see the world spin
Even though some think the world spins on the axis of their belly

Writing a letter to the kid I was
To the young man I miss and the stranger I’ve become
I thank them for everything, for being here
I won’t forget them, please, close the door on your way out

Tired of pretending and living a character
But today my truth came with the elegance of a suit
Living on this journey where I pay tolls
Every time I forget the importance of the message

And those painful topics, don’t ask for them again
If they hurt me, I’ll die without saying it
My thoughts won’t be measured again
How could you measure the class of Pirlo?

What hurts me, I’ll remove, zero fighting it
What little brings me joy, I want to share it
The verses that talk about her, I want to destroy them
Because it hurts to know she didn’t come back after hearing them

Still, with the little will I have left
I’ll win this game with no way out of loneliness
Always in my own, other lives don’t matter
Even though it seems like in mine, they can comment—how sad!

I know it doesn’t matter what I want to tell
But the saddest part is when the topic ends
Today I’m fine, but I want to feel bad
Because my best songs were written while I was in ruins