El Blues Del Autobús

Every day I wake up
In a different room
Where I find myself
When the sun is rising.
We sleep little and poorly,
Burning our health,
To reach the fifth hell
Where I will sing again
What are you doing?

Every day a concert,
A rehearsal, a tension,
That I control knowing
That it's my life that I give.
No tricks or cardboard,
I am as you see me.
I know more by dog than by old,
But I start to miss
A minute between you and me...

I live on the road
Inside a bus.
I live on the road
Parked in a blues.
I live on the road
I always look south.