Instituciones

I look forward to the coming day
Beautiful like a Sun in the city
And if you listen well
I think you will understand
Why I waited in vain
For you to give me your hand
Humanity from my bones
You must save

The magicians, the acrobats, the clowns
Move the strings skillfully
But isn't the terror of loneliness
What makes the clowns
One red, the other white
And the old ones break their voice
To sing?

Listen, son, things are this way
A radio in my room tells me everything
Don't ask anymore!
You have Saturdays, women, and televisions
You have days to walk even without pants
Don't ask anymore!

Always the same terror of loneliness
Made me wait in vain
For you to give me your hand
When the Sun comes to find me
To take my dreams to the right place