Narcolessia emotiva - Cripple Bastards
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Narcolessia emotiva - Cripple Bastards

Альбом
La fine cresce da dentro
Год
2018
Язык
`Italian`
Длительность
110370

Below is the lyrics of the song Narcolessia emotiva , artist - Cripple Bastards with translation

Lyrics " Narcolessia emotiva "

Original text with translation

Narcolessia emotiva

Cripple Bastards

Оригинальный текст

È un rituale sofferto

Frasi incollate dal vissuto altrui

Quel che hai scelto di esporre al mondo

Per celebrare ciò che non sarai mai

Così muore il talento

La qualità della persona che hai perso

Nell’urgenza di un altro commento

A un numero di consensi aumentati

Derivato da sangue sbiadito

Che opinioni non ne ha mai forgiate

Una progenie di aborti dissociati

Ti osservo, ci passiamo attraverso

Sei già altrove a metà risposta, ci passiamo attraverso

Selezioni discorsi ma non sei in grado di fissarli

Mi chiedo quanta autostima sia stata in grado

Di infonderti la fogna che ti ha rigurgitato

Quanto realizzi di essere ai margini del superfluo

Se soffri senza una finestra da cui proclamare

Ciclicamente la tua monotona perdita di impulsi

Dentro ad ogni percorso copiato

Chi ha perso e chi ci ha sempre marciato

Da quanto tempo non ti accorgi di essere fermo

Di tirare avanti solo col loro additivo

Su un dormiveglia di stimoli dettati

Così muore il talento

Di chi si trascina a circuito spento

Перевод песни

It is a painful ritual

Phrases glued from the experience of others

What you have chosen to exhibit to the world

To celebrate what you will never be

This is how talent dies

The quality of the person you have lost

In the urgency of another comment

To an increased number of consents

Derived from faded blood

What opinions has he never forged

A progeny of dissociated abortions

I watch you, we go through it

You are already somewhere else halfway through, let's go through it

You select speeches but are unable to fix them

I wonder how much self-esteem she was able to

To infuse the sewer that regurgitated you

How much you realize you are on the edge of the superfluous

If you suffer without a window from which to proclaim

Cyclically your monotonous loss of impulses

Inside each copied path

Who has lost and who has always marched there

How long have you not noticed that you are still

To get by only with their additive

On a half-sleep of dictated stimuli

This is how talent dies

Of those who drag themselves with the circuit off

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