El Monje
Once Tiros
The Monk
What is the gift from the heavens?
How is that thunder that arises from within you?
Is it the beyond of some uncertain destinies
Or is it my holiness that comes blasting in stereo?
I'm the priest who always offers wine
The one who always listens to Dionysus' prayers
I'm the biggest hypocrite of all tragedies
I'm the creature that fills your head
Perfection we can find
In the balance between good and evil
We must see how the Sun and the Moon
Take turns to illuminate
And you, annihilating thousands of neurons
Thinking about what they will say
And what will they say?
