Epílogo La Broma Infinita

What’s that music playing?
Gunshots ringing out
Their lead bullets reflect the past
We had wicked desires
We played with fire
Now it’s the dream that’s burning

No bells are ringing, no rush in sight
The streets haven’t turned to yellow
Blessed are those who without a thought
Jumped into the fray

Those who defy the highest order
Those who defy the highest order
Those who defy the order

(We are the infinite joke that cries inside)