Estamos Podridos

We are rotten
From television programs
We are bored
No one understands our dissatisfaction

Fat puritans
And all that amoral fire
Plutonian waves
And all the nuclear terror

There are still thousands of stars
Where we can escape
Baby, you are the most beautiful
But I think it's the end

I'm thinking about Tutankhamun
But I think it's the end