El Cuenta Cuentos

I looked around as if I were a castaway
I sat down to rest as if I were a bird
I lit my cigarette as if it were the only one
And so I felt free as if it were summer
I talked to myself as if it were a dream
I hugged my family as if it were the last
I closed my eyes tightly as if it were a king
And I continued my path as if it were a vagabond

My heart continues fasting, in a constant Ramadan
It's the tam-tam of the sorcerer's drum of the clan
It's another written text, another shout, another volcano eruption
And where will my words go? Where will those people go?
Among suits and ties, silver and crystal luxuries
Holding their suitcases with maternal instinct
There's no happy ending here, no fade to black or applause
Serious gesture, attentive ear is the effect I cause
Double H, my fetish, while the night hugs me
Listen, madam, don't reproach me
I'm not a yuppie or a dandy, more like a tranquil junkie
So grab your brandy, smoke up and escape, flee
Next to the honest storyteller of the street
Let the verse act, penetrate and tattoo you
What I detest I make manifest
Among brothers, dreams, and basketball games I grew up
And 20 years are nothing, says the tango
That's why in my chest there are no more medals or ranks
So, young, smart, and energetic
Looking for my place like a phone in the directory
And what would I give to be rich, and if I were rich, what would I give?
Who would I kill for? And who would I die for?
My promises fulfilled in days of hustling
Rap without boasting, what did you think?
The easy thing would be to talk about me, my ego, etcetera, etcetera
The difficult thing is to put the world into words, rhyme to the beat
Outwit time, sculpt a temple for rap
Make the verse a sword, for example
And so, handicap after handicap, shock after shock
Wandering in my memories, my beloved belle epoque
And you, do you walk with the world at your feet or on your back?
Do cars, drugs, skirts lead you astray?
I know the secrets you keep under lock and key
And I had two teachers: Mr. Book and Mr. Street
Yes, the storyteller

I looked around as if I were a bird
I sat down to rest as if it were summer
I lit my cigarette as if it were a vagabond
And so I felt free as if I were a castaway
I talked to myself as if it were the only one
I hugged my family as if it were a king
I closed my eyes tightly as if it were a dream
And I continued my path as if it were the last

I bring the essence of the one who always answers
It consists of revealing where the sky and the sea kiss
Revealing where the dark truth hides
Stand by my side, let's go in search of the Golden one
Go where, look where, if my cards confuse me
And my great love Hip Hop sometimes doesn't reciprocate
It's the era I live in, of fairs and carousels
Where everything is attractive, interactive, and addictive
Difficult situation if so much temptation is faced
Dad at the bar played again, mom in front of the idiot box
And the family falls apart like a tent
While the children chat with bad company in the park across
Transformation from good boy to delinquent
Arguments and fights, you read between the lines of my lines always
Manifesto for a few
In the land of clones they looked at me like a madman
I know I'm a minority, among a minority
Writing my memories under the midday sun
Your phobias bore me, they're parish sermons
To see your girlfriend nagging you because she wants a Nokia phone
It's normal, easy, like breaking ceramics
I know many geniuses who are slaves in factories
And see their dreams crushed by machines
Always the same tick-tock, the same tears, do you understand?
That today the asphalt burns and I feel like a coward
For saying I love you too late, do you understand?
That I'm not here but I was, even if you feel I'm a nuisance
In this city that seems to absorb me
Chords, disagreements, what are we?
Monkeys in the time of Cronos, giants on thrones stepping on gnomes
Too many lead slabs on your back
Too many things and around you sad tones like the Blues
Tell me if that stranger who comes on the bus is Jesus
From work with a bowed head, and you
Do you walk with the world at your feet or on your back?
Do cars, drugs, skirts lead you astray?
I know the secrets you keep under lock and key
And I had two teachers: Mr. Book and Mr. Street
The storyteller

I looked around as if I were a vagabond
I sat down to rest as if it were a dream
I lit my cigarette as if it were a castaway
And so I felt free as if I were the only one
I talked to myself as if I were a king
I hugged my family as if it were summer
I closed my eyes tightly as if it were the last
And I continued my path as if I were a bird

I looked around as if I were a king
I sat down to rest as if I were a vagabond
I lit my cigarette as if it were the last
And so I felt free as if it were a dream
I talked to myself as if I were a castaway
I hugged my family as if I were the only one
I closed my eyes tightly as if I were a bird
And I continued my path as if it were summer
Yes, the storyteller