Por Colectora
Las Pastillas del Abuelo
By Collector Road
You think you know what's within your reach
And it's not
It shows itself unfaithful
Waiting for its chance
If it looks good
From the ground, they start to sprout
If it looks bad
They get lost in the darkness
They claim to be
Those who come to save you
They want to bite
They fear you might escape
They will eat from your plate
Until they burst
Your veins
Will give them something to take
And you hurt more
The three meters to the fence
Than if there's more
Or less in the account than last month
Thinking you're a champion
The vultures seek the bait
I put the tribe
To see who the chief is
There they are
They want to win without working
That's how it goes
They keep looking for someone to screw
And you hurt more
The three meters to the fence
Than if there's more
Or less in the account than last month
Thinking you're a champion
The vultures seek the bait
I put the tribe
To see who the chief is
And you want to escape
From so much drool in your barbecue
He who is offended
Will be angry tomorrow
If you are honest and loyal
People will fall in love with you
If you knew what it is
You would come by collector road
