Muita Estrela, Pouca Constelação

The party is good, someone is footing the bill
Praising you as you get drunk
And the ego will be up in the clouds
Wearing an earring to break the structures

And there's a punk complaining non-stop
And a new wave wanting to be effeminate
And the heavy guy belching distortion
And a goth in deep depression

(Chorus)
I know it seems serious, but it's all a setup
The problem is too many stars, too few constellations

There was a junkie trembling in the corners
A businessman swearing he was a saint
A groupie wanting just anyone
And a butch hitting on my woman

There's a band they're about to sign
That creates nothing but is good at copying
The critics liked it, it will be a success, she never misses
After all, it resembles what's done in England

(Chorus)

And now comes the outskirts

The photographer, he will document
The talk of the newest big star
For that rock and gossip magazine
That you read when you have a stomach ache

And the journalist wants flattery
Because new old is the new sensation
The stupidity is so much, it's all so obvious
And everyone posing as an artist

(Chorus)