SUEÑOS ROTOSr

A dark attic full of broken dreams,
broken by a too vulgar present,
the harsh reality hits the mind
as you walk through the streets
where you learned to walk,
blackened and narrow like the whole neighborhood,
the siren signals the shift change,
but there's no shift for you,
nor for your old man
they've also put him on the street.

Reconversion, desolation, wild desolation,
you keep walking looking around,
you spit on the ground with rage,
you eat your guts,
what options are they giving you,
constant exploitation, insecurity,
your head is a pressure cooker.

Stop, stop! You feel like a failure, stop!,
stop! You're not 30 and every time
you sink deeper, more and more pissed off,
more and more pissed off, doubts assail you,
you can't escape the anguish
you wake up at night
burdened by the future
and you can't sleep
thinking about solving,
problems that don't seem to have
a happy ending, they won't have a happy ending!

Routine and desolation invade your sad reality
but you're not alone in ruin,
thousands of people are disgusted at the thought,
no opportunities, no way out,
they want to commit suicide at the bottom of the attic,
alongside their broken dreams
and their futureless present