Frío Sur

Yeah
How do I pick myself up when I fall?
It hurts my soul, Guillermo Buitrago
Let the water flow, it won't fit in our hands
Looking at the sky without longing would be a gift

If I slip tomorrow and isolate myself from the herd
Or if we get lost, it's better if we love each other
Let the water flow, it won't fit in our hands
Life is one, and any day we could go

Riding a guitar like Joaquín Sabina
Voice of a cigarette seller, street poetry
Smoking just to smoke from the finest stash
If I rap, it's to feel that divine light

I packed my fears in a suitcase
I have an idea ready to travel the planet
Nothing changed, I'm the same making a demo
I fell a thousand times just steps from crossing the finish line

Today I tie my boots in case the war explodes
Because if you come from war, you crash into everything
Sweating drop by drop until the glass is full
Buddy, I don't just put my hand in, I put my whole arm in
I give my word, and if I did: I keep it firm

My old man's code: Don't talk about useless things
I say what I think, let others filter it
With an open heart surrounded by vultures— waiting for their carrion
They want the tree to fall to turn it into firewood
They want to win their cut, life isn't taught
I understand their hypocrisy even in sign language

They say it's not the journey, it's the traveler
Drop that baggage, go and tell them you love them
What matters isn't arriving, it's the journey
It's being at peace with yourself

They say no evil lasts a hundred years
You lose money, friends become strangers
And since I've never cared about what they say
Blessings to all those who curse

I went on a trip, only packed my lyrics
Taking a stroll through Spinetta's city
I have an open wound, thorn of a dead rose
They didn't see it coming, and I came to knock down the door

I roll with crazies, they have the souls of poets
In a photo, they manage to project your cracks
They're not videos, it's a complete work
(Exquisite) That only a few contemplate

Messages that leave you cold like the south
Here we don't have a king, there's no one of blue blood
We're mestizos, children of the Sun and the light
The world's lungs will always be our cross

They call it the third world
It's third-rate for third parties to think they're first
Wow, what an absurd place
They feel special inside the same hole, and wow

They say it's not the journey, it's the traveler
Drop that baggage, go and tell them you love them
What matters isn't arriving, it's the journey
It's being at peace with yourself

They say no evil lasts a hundred years
You lose money, friends become strangers
And since I've never cared about what they say
Blessings to all those who curse.