No Meu Quarto

In my bed I have a lady I barely know
Attracted by this fame that I sometimes exert
What a miserable spirit!
She gives her body and spirit for something full of nothing
What a miserable spirit of mine!
Taking advantage of the degradation of a poor woman's values
With an irrational fascination for stardom

Rational fascination for the apparatus without substance
Bro, everyone wants to be attached to the most loved ones
So they can get the attention of those who love the most loved ones
Pathological collective neediness
Slaves of scarce love is our sociological thesis
I turn on the television
I see the rabbit steps saying we'll soon be out of the recession

Why do we vote for these politicians?
They are extensions of the economic power, it's more than explicit
They rob the state, give positions to allies
From local governments to ministries, everything is tied up
They privatize justice in their name
They instrumentalize the media to leave us alienated
It's the bankruptcy of representative democracy
That only gave birth to corruption and a passive mass
A harmless mass of men who subjugated
Who gave up the country they usurped and dismantled

From my room I see everything
It's where I reflect, cry, and get disappointed
From my room I see myself
I see you, your soul, and I see your end
In the sound system only play refreshing music
Sounds of tamin, sacik brow, and orlando santos
Independent musicians of undeniable talent
But with little projection in this aberrant market

Promoters only hire artists from the playlist
They boost the boosted and talent gives up
Festivals are full of artists with no audience
Imposed by agencies to promote their musicians
They ignore all your buzz on the internet
If you don't have TV or radio, your buzz dies in the toilet
Bro, this is the anti-meritocracy industry
Promoters and labels in sick pornography

Explicitly on the bedside table I have cans of Coca-Cola
McDonald's bags, it's just junk food
It's just toxicity that poisons my body
Inside, I'm a trash can of carnivorous food
I'm just another victim of this advertising

That surrounds us, to impose desires and needs on us
We're always sick eating what they advertise
Then doctors give us medications that don't rehabilitate us
Of course, medications that only temporarily relieve you
So you're forced to buy them endlessly
Thus we feed the pharmaceutical industry
They're billionaires and we're sick without therapy

From my room I see everything
It's where I reflect, cry, and get disappointed
From my room I see myself
I see you, your soul, and I see your end
I go to the computer
I open my Facebook

It's 5 in the morning and there are still a lot of people posting stuff
They vent problems, criticize the system
Suggest topics, share slogans and poems
All with the purpose of getting attention
And anything goes in search of that supreme attention
The affection and attention that the real world didn't give them
The real world that made us blind or atheists
The real world of deadly competition
The cannibal world where everyone is a rival
Where love doesn't show up
And already sees its funeral
Where living is hellish
So all that's left is the virtual
From the window I see people going to work
Defeated, depressed, lifeless like scarecrows
Resigned to a job they never wanted
Resigned to the idea that they have to be slaves to live
Bro, they've lived as slaves their whole lives
Without joy to offer, without dreams to be reborn
Bro, we're all chasing that necessary money
A priority element in this monetary system

That tells you that being happy and fulfilled is secondary
And that without a salary, you don't exist in this ordeal
I see all our degradation from my room
Tell me, do you see the same from your room?
From my room I see everything
It's where I reflect, cry, and get disappointed
From my room I see myself
I see you, your soul, and I see your end