I arrive home late pa ‘not vary.
I drank wine, and I have no more.
Ganas of mentirme, eager to dream,
You win by hitting a cake against the truth.
That is easier to ignore smiling when walking
In front of the mirror very seriously, whore chance.
I drink on flavored alcohol.
Lágrima painting on my face pain
Loco is customary weeping drunk or perhaps poet before saying goodbye.
Whenever I can sing she does or does so poorly
When singing not bother me, bitch chance.
That I am living, for having between my arms.
Lately joy of going low
I, who smiles when anyone makes case
He who wears the color of their failure
Sometimes that I am the clown.
Raining in hell, the city burns.
The streets crowded me, I will not stop breathing
I am that does not exist, for that is not.
I am a sad soul, a refugee in a disguise
Nothing is different, all are equal
Posts to mourn, I wash his face to take advantage of a failure more.
I am he who does not learn bird at sea.
Let me dream
To be the usual, a history to remember.
That I am living, for having between my arms.
Lately joy of going low
I, who smiles when anyone makes case
He who wears the color of their failure
Yo, this timid clown..