Artrsano Del Arte Insano

Anyone can be anyone, being different a punishment
How do you want me not to talk about myself, if I only talk to myself?
I drink without reasons, but at least I motivate myself
I just try to be active, I get depressed if I don't write

For me it's always recess, in case I have fun
In case I find the words that save me from the lethargy
But outside it's cold and I don't see solfeggio on the wall of my room
I don't want a madhouse, it's just a block

I'm sorry, the elements made me violent
Stand up to the snack that the wind sends you
Everything is ephemeral, the heart is inert
Squeeze it first and forget about death

And I, either turn off the clock, or I don't relax
They look at me askance, but I don't lower myself
And time is gold for those who don't live it alone, he said
Treasure, leave the pomace and look for a job

And the gray smoke creates a crisis of chrism
Enhances the ugly swan in the glass of that Chrysler
My life is a freestyle without business
For going to bed when everyone dresses and waking up sad

I remove a thorn and I prick a spike
Dodge the spiral and breathe self-esteem
Life is fast and the habitat tires me
You're born to work and you work to pay for your tomb

Eternal spring summer in this world
For this pessimist with a vagabond soul
At the mercy of the second, I love to the deepest degree
Whiskies and my lyrics make up my mental turmoil

I spit in your artificial world, I love the cultured
I search in the most hidden and that's why I blame myself
And insult my ambivalent, disturbed conscience
For scratching those grooves that don't sow anything afterwards

I wrote the next ten in silence
When the trash TV sleeps, far from the siege
Asking my notebook to invoke something in me
From the only window with light in the whole block

The most dangerous weapon is money
Even more dangerous than the ambition to be first
But free from the pain of greed and desire
With silence in my pockets, the heart is a goldfinch

Free!
Free, goldfinch!
Free!

From the street to the bed, one more day, with dirty hands
In exchange for a dirty phrase that relieves my misanthropy
Other times I come back making S's, blind during the week
No balance to send an S.O.S. to any girl

I don't want money, I want to be healthy like a worm
Married to the past, tired of thinking
Save my soul from the cell, return to the jungle, free
Like when I took out the book and the bell rang

One-night stands during the day, they make me ashamed
I want a pussy that listens to me and cuddles me with all its strength
I don't believe in spells, but in the magic of the moment
Many times shattered, now well, for the moment

I want wonderful verses without more tears
Proud to be me, it's my self-esteem on blurry days
I am the painful pleasure, like giving life
I saw nothing when I came, what will there be when I leave?

And is God one and is in everyone?
If outside they are killing each other for him, for giving him nicknames
The pressure doesn't impress me, great MC better person
I'm making love to a flower, with glamour, in Gerona

I've drunk more than I've lived
I'm a living being, served, humble but walking tall
My song is of pain like that of a caged bird
If I die and come back, I want to be a poet and not a soldier

They will crush your shell and what will it matter
You will leave the world the same even if your tomb is more expensive
What is death, that eternal dream?
Is it a revenge of life or perhaps, rather, a reward?

And what is this sad portrait that the mirror paints?
Are the others immortal or am I getting old?
I spend the hours from sunrise to sunset, alone, but my loneliness is my crown