Homenaje a los locos del borda - Bersuit Vergarabat

La historia, no recordará

A esos espectros‚ que andan solos con su alma

Cabalgan‚ cabalgan‚ cabalgan en sus fantasías

Persiguen lo deseable y no se frenan con drogas inyectables

Mirando arriba esperando a alguien bajar, sin dientes

Como si la vida les quitara voracidad

El vientre tan hinchado de comer verdades

Avanzan, avanzan‚ avanzan sin popularidad

No necesitan trámites para acceder a la vida

El pueblo esta dispuesto a perdonar a un terrible asesino

Pero siempre escupirán en la cara del que piense distinto

Aunque cante a veces

Tengo la impresión de que la gente escucha las frases que acompañan su caída

Miro mi guitarra y la veo tan inútil

Me arranco la garganta y quiero gritar

Un auto es más acariciado que un hombre extraño

Me arranco la garganta y quiero gritar

Un auto es más acariciado que un hombre extraño

History, won't remember

To those specters‚ who walk alone with their soul

They ride, they ride, they ride in their fantasies

They chase the desirable and are not stopped by injection drugs

Looking up waiting for someone to come down, no teeth

As if life took away their voracity

The belly so swollen from eating truths

They advance, they advance‚ they advance without popularity

They do not need paperwork to access life

The town is willing to forgive a terrible murderer

But they will always spit in the face of those who think differently

Although I sing sometimes

I have the impression that people listen to the phrases that accompany their fall

I look at my guitar and I see it so useless

I rip out my throat and I want to scream

A car is more caressed than a strange man

I rip out my throat and I want to scream

A car is more caressed than a strange man