Duelen Las Manos
Salta La Banca
My Hands Hurt
This lie has long legs
I got sick of the demands of flattery
We both wore ourselves out with these agreed-upon fights
My indifference crushed your ravenous fantasy
Damn this romance of long ears and Cold War
Your crude Oedipus tried to forge my apathy
And don’t blame me for being what you didn’t want
You won’t find cherubs in Pampa and La Via.
No more tears of pleas to the sky
You’re now the new dissident of despair
With your golden demeanor, and inner bitterness
You’re free to give yourself to another dumbass bidder
My hands hurt from pulling on the rope so much
We’ve dedicated ourselves to guarding our self-esteem
Your cameras will applaud the fool
Who comes to fill your chest with spit
And our ruined dream, by our own doing.
What pushed you to live in a hostile abyss
I’ll try to get them to show me mercy
The poor guys look at each other with some indulgence
No more tears of pleas to the sky
You’re now the new dissident of despair
With your golden demeanor, and inner bitterness
You’re free to give yourself to another dumbass bidder.
