Al Final de La Calle

Malco is a young man immersed in the underworld of music
He wanted to appease his loneliness by putting together a rock 'n' roll band
But when it began to garner approvals
His loneliness grew. Even so
Malco does not give up and insists on making the expression
Sonora a reflection of social chaos
Ponto realizes that rock
His euphonious rebellion and that showing of the sides
Darkest of man
They have been part of the repertoire for many years.
And the gear of the system
Malchus remembers the days when those around him told him
That would make music more digestible
And less uncomfortable for the industry
But Malco continues doing his thing
He knows that he is just another number in the circus of society.
But he also knows it's not a lie
Society locks up in prisons
And madhouses or condemnation to exile and eternal loneliness
To all those
Who try to escape from the role that has been entrusted to them
Since school days
And stay, forever, at the end of the street

I must be a traveling salesman
I must be a passerby
An ordinary pedestrian waiting to take
A fragment of a dream
a short smile
A cloud that time has to remove from me
Well, everything goes away... And there's no way to take it back
Everything is gone... Except your name and your voice
An empty hand, a soundless thunder
A bed in which I will never spend the night
A bonfire without flames, a great sky without gods
A street with beings who are not supposed to win
A crude hoax
An enveloping grimace
The sadness that turns and ties me again, tries to suffocate me
The furtive avenue
a bleeding wound
And at the end of the street is the fleeting glow
Of an infinite footprint
A swarm of breezes
A grave that could have been killed in life
A volatile language
a fake smile
Through the streets that spit death and truth
A market of oblivion
A souvenir fair
There is no winter that hugs you stronger than you.
The night has already come
The lights are already on
Today they are going to kill me
The curtain opens the way
To the people who wait
See my soul burst
There is an empty circle
There is pain in my eyes
The prison is not gone
It's still in place
I don't know my mess
Maybe I'm accident
A spawn of time
Who prefers to cry... Cry
Go away and even sing songs, they told me
That they don't talk about anything and that they can dance
Don't make too much effort
Well the music is dead
There's only shit on the dial
I didn't listen to advice
I received your opinion
You deserve banishment
premature ending
A silent song
Or an unfinished song
A grieving recluse
that he didn't want to take
Your slice of the world
And walk among lights
And among friends who pass
And they tell you "cheers-cheers!"
my shell has fallen
The enigma has emerged
To look for a home
Everything is in its place
And it's a crazy song
Of revenge and of sick people
Of romances and verbs
And of spectral love
And the praise will come
Like navel shots
Like a disjointed dance
Like a blind man looking
And here we are again
With the lights and everything
Culture comes first
And fuck the rest
I am hostage to that story
I am the finger that accuses
I am the judge, I am a witness
I am a jury and prosecutor
I just want one night
See myself alone with you, and watch the end
And again to the same
And again the routine
Cut off my fears and start singing
Deciphering signals
Like brief tortures
Like wounds that will never close
Like rocks that one day I'm going to throw on me
The pack awaits me
shame climbs
It anoints my body and prevents me from killing
Like a hurried step
Like slow torture
There is only fear and the dunes cover me with salt
I am not a poet or a pastruler
I am neither echo nor madness
I'm just an idiot who already wants to escape
Without more life this shit
Without more mine than my years
My friends, my songs, and my crying
I love you in my doubt
I love you in my insanity
And at the end of the street I just want to hug every step you take