Lo Mejor De Ser Artista - Nacho Cano

Lo mejor de ser artista

Es el afecto de la gente

Los royalties, las sorpresas

Y el placer de complacerte

Por un rato de mi vida

Das tu cuerpo sin reparo

Si me paro tú me observas

Si es por coito o por cansancio

Que las giras y las drogas

Van minando tu salud

Y el aplauso a las neuronas

No les vuelve a dar la luz

Lo mejor de ser artista

Se ha quedado entre las piernas

De las mises que vienen tras los bises

Lo mejor de ser artista

Se ha quedado en la memoria

De la gente que por mi fueron felices

Estribillo:

Si la moda barre fuera mi momento

Y me ponen en el saco del que fue

No me importa, no me importa nada de esto

Que mi barco no navega en el ayer

Si la historia no me funde en una placa

Y mi fama se disipa en el pasar

No me importa, no me importa nada nada

Y en el cielo sobra la posteridad

Que la risa nadie me la va a quitar

Lo peor de ser artista son las neuras

Los insomnios, los pelotas

Los impuestos y las madres de las niñas

Que te abrasan con la charla

«Qué le haces a la chiquilla

No me come, no me estudia

Y con tu foto se masturba»

La mentira cuando digo

Que tú no eres una más

Que se crece cuando afirmo

Que te voy a llamar

Lo mejor de ser artista

Es que uno pilla la autopista

Y tira millas repartiendo golosinas

Si te he visto no me acuerdo

Y si recuerdo me confundo

Que el despiste es consecuencia del ingenio

The best of being an artist

It is the affection of the people

The royalties, the surprises

And the pleasure of pleasing you

For a while of my life

You give your body without hesitation

If I stop you watch me

If it is due to intercourse or tiredness

That the tours and the drugs

They are undermining your health

And the applause to the neurons

It does not give them light again

The best of being an artist

It has stayed between the legs

Of the mises that come after the encores

The best of being an artist

It has stayed in the memory

Of the people who were happy for me

Chorus:

If fashion sweeps out my time

And they put me in the bag of which it was

I don't care, I don't care about any of this

That my ship does not sail in yesterday

If history doesn't melt me ​​into a plaque

And my fame fades in passing

I don't care, I don't care about anything at all

And in the sky there is plenty of posterity

Nobody is going to take my laughter away

The worst thing about being an artist is the neuras

The insomnia, the balls

Taxes and the mothers of girls

That they burn you with the talk

"What are you doing to the girl?

He doesn't eat me, he doesn't study me

And with your photo he masturbates"

The lie when I say

That you are not one more

That grows when I affirm

What am I going to call you?

The best of being an artist

It is that one catches the highway

And spend miles handing out candy

If I have seen you I do not remember

And if I remember I get confused

That the mistake is a consequence of ingenuity