La Mala Educación - Izal

Ruego que disculpen mis modales si no me levanto

Ya me he cansado de tender las manos y que rompan mis brazos

Y si alguna vez os miento, juro que lo haré contando toda mi verdad

Sonreiré lo justo para no pagar los platos rotos de toda la ciudad

Y ya te has cansado de ponerle buena cara al daño

De que te pidan a la vez bellas mentiras y que hablemos claro

Y que finjamos conocernos y querernos, siendo dos extraños

Hartos de flores, cines, velas, protocolos, mentirosos que ya se marcharon

Sangras, ríes, lloras

Tienes forma, masa, volumen y color

Tú tienes tus heridas

Y solamente tú conoces su sabor

Sangras, ríes, lloras

Tienes forma, masa, volumen y color

Y como salvavidas

Una sinceridad vestida de mala educación

Una vez fijadas las premisas de este nuevo estado

Correrá la voz para que todos sepan cuánto hemos cambiado

Y sin embargo, en lo más hondo de su pecho se ha colado algo de luz

Le ha susurrado las palabras, las verdades que aparecen en su cruz

No curan tus golpes, no limpian tu barro

No miran tus ojos, no tocan tus manos

Sangras, ríes, lloras

Tienes forma, masa, volumen y color

Tienes tus heridas

Y solamente tú conoces su sabor

Sangras, ríes, lloras

Tienes forma, masa, volumen y color

Y como salvavidas

Una sinceridad vestida de mala educación

Sangro, río, lloro

Tengo forma, masa, volumen y color

Tengo mis heridas

Y solamente yo conozco su sabor

Y ya te has cansado de ponerle buena cara al daño

Please excuse my manners if I don't get up

I'm tired of reaching out and having my arms broken

And if I ever lie to you, I swear I'll tell my whole truth

I will smile just enough not to pay for the broken dishes of the whole city

And you're tired of putting a brave face on damage

That they ask you beautiful lies at the same time and that we speak clearly

And that we pretend to know and love each other, being two strangers

Tired of flowers, cinemas, candles, protocols, liars who have already left

You bleed, you laugh, you cry

You have shape, mass, volume and color

you have your wounds

And only you know its flavor

You bleed, you laugh, you cry

You have shape, mass, volume and color

and as a lifeguard

A sincerity dressed in rudeness

Once the premises of this new state have been established

Will spread the word so everyone knows how much we've changed

And yet, deep in her chest, some light has crept in.

She has whispered the words, the truths that appear on her cross

They don't heal your bumps, they don't clean your mud

They don't look at your eyes, they don't touch your hands

You bleed, you laugh, you cry

You have shape, mass, volume and color

you have your wounds

And only you know its flavor

You bleed, you laugh, you cry

You have shape, mass, volume and color

and as a lifeguard

A sincerity dressed in rudeness

I bleed, I river, I cry

I have shape, mass, volume and color

I have my wounds

And only I know its taste

And you're tired of putting a brave face on damage