The Same Old Story - Nitro

Vorrei che mi guardassi dentro come ti vedo da fuori

Fondendo ogni mio lineamento con i miei valori

Sentendo le paure, le pressioni e i miei dolori

Perché senza sfumature a cosa servono i colori?

Hey

Stai nelle tenebre e aspetti giorni migliori

Finché non saremo cenere dei nostri mozziconi

E se ho potuto crescere è solo grazie agli errori

Ho dovuto solo vendere i miei incubi peggiori!

(hey)

Sarai un profeta ma solo dopo che muori

No fame, no money, the same old story

Voglio musica concreta non i watt dei riflettori

My face got bloody, the same old story

Sai che vince la moneta ed ogni gioco ha detrattori

No game, no money, the same old story

Is the same old story

Is the same old story

Ricordo me nella mia stanza, stessa faccia, stesso dramma

La condanna di chi inganna se stesso e fa un’altra canna

E anche se ho sempre odiato le frasi di circostanza

Alla domanda 'Come va?'

a chi mi parla dico 'Abbastanza'

Ho assegnato all’ignoranza dei giorni di vigilanza

Cercato speranza negli occhi di chi si fidanza

Ho messo in testi insani l’infamia e la mia rivalsa

Non dicevo 'Senza mani' 'Guarda mamma, senza l’ansia'!

E so che dovrei sembrare forte

Ma l’unica variabile costante per me è il 'forse'

Ho dato il cuore a stronze e ho preso le loro borse

Le ho messe sotto gli occhi e con le gocce ho fatto Cocktails

E anche se fosse il mio umore ancora corre

Tra altalenanti alti e bassi come un Roller Coaster

Ho creduto più ai poster che a un prete o al Pater Noster

Ma so che siamo attratti dalla morte come mosche!

E le batoste che detesto mi han messo tra i vincitori

Perché dopo il sangue in bocca ho apprezzato di più i sapori

È giocare con le emozioni e coi miei demoni interiori

Perché l’arte fa volare pur sentendosi inferiori

Ma è iniettare delusioni nel cuore ai miei genitori

Ricamare sensazioni tra neuroni testimoni

Fare ciò che voglio in mezzo a imprenditori e intenditori

Siamo solo pescatori in mezzo a un mare di illusioni

Ehy

Sarai un profeta ma solo dopo che muori

No fame, no money, the same old story

Voglio musica concreta non i watt dei riflettori

My face got bloody, the same old story

Sai che vince la moneta ed ogni gioco ha detrattori

No game, no money, the same old story

Is the same old story

Is the same old story

I never feel better, surrender there’s no heaven

I never feel better, surrender there’s no heaven

Un segreto lo mantieni?

Me lo giuri?

Noi artisti siamo un branco di infedeli ed insicuri

Alcuni dicono 'Fuck the police' per sentirsi duri (please)

È inutile come scrivere 'ACAB' sopra i muri!

Mi sfanculi e provi gusto nel dire che mi han cambiato

Perché adesso non sembro più quello brutto ed impacciato (eh!)

Non ho chiamato Houston perché era sempre occupato

Io sono il talento giusto nato nel posto sbagliato (chiaro!)

E Dimmi quanto risoluto sembri

Quando ti metti a nudo come i vermi

E ti rivesti nei tuoi testi

E tu mi accuseresti, ma di cosa?

Duri un giorno, Mariposa

Se non senti la poesia dai, vai di Prozac

E allora sarà faida nel Fight Club

Chi inizia morirà con la stessa penna che sguaina

Stan tutti sopra il carro dei vincenti per la line-up

Ma se non scendi chi cazzo lo traina?

Perché se lo fai sarai un profeta ma solo dopo che muori

No fame, no money, the same old story

Voglio musica concreta non i watt dei riflettori

My face got bloody, the same old story

Sai che vince la moneta ed ogni gioco ha detrattori

No game, no money, the same old story

Is the same old story

Is the same old story

I never feel better, surrender there’s no heaven

I never feel better, surrender there’s no heaven

I would like you to look inside me as I see you from the outside

Blending my every feature with my values

Feeling the fears, the pressures and my pains

Because without shades, what are colors for?

Hey

Stay in darkness and wait for better days

Until we're ashes from our butts

And if I was able to grow it is only thanks to mistakes

I just had to sell my worst nightmares!

(hey)

You will be a prophet but only after you die

No fame, no money, the same old story

I want concrete music not spotlight watts

My face got bloody, the same old story

You know the coin wins and every game has detractors

No game, no money, the same old story

Is the same old story

Is the same old story

I remember me in my room, same face, same drama

The condemnation of those who deceive themselves and make another joint

And even if I have always hated the phrases of circumstance

To the question 'How are you doing?'

to those who talk to me I say 'Enough'

I have assigned days of supervision to ignorance

Looking for hope in the eyes of those who get engaged

I have put infamy and my revenge into insane texts

I didn't say 'Without hands' 'Look mom, without the anxiety'!

And I know I should look strong

But the only constant variable for me is 'maybe'

I gave bitches hearts and took their bags

I put them under the eyes and with the drops I made Cocktails

And even if it were my mood still runs

Between ups and downs like a Roller Coaster

I believed more in posters than in a priest or in the Pater Noster

But I know we are drawn to death like flies!

And the blows I hate have put me among the winners

Because after the blood in my mouth I appreciated the flavors more

It is playing with emotions and with my inner demons

Because art makes you fly while feeling inferior

But it's injecting disappointments into my parents' hearts

Embroidering sensations between witness neurons

Do what I want in the midst of entrepreneurs and connoisseurs

We are just fishermen in the midst of a sea of ​​illusions

Hey

You will be a prophet but only after you die

No fame, no money, the same old story

I want concrete music not spotlight watts

My face got bloody, the same old story

You know the coin wins and every game has detractors

No game, no money, the same old story

Is the same old story

Is the same old story

I never feel better, surrender there’s no heaven

I never feel better, surrender there’s no heaven

Do you keep a secret?

Do you swear it to me?

We artists are a bunch of infidels and insecure

Some say 'Fuck the police' to feel hard (please)

It is as useless as writing 'ACAB' on the walls!

Fuck me and enjoy saying that they changed me

Because now I don't look that ugly and awkward anymore (eh!)

I didn't call Houston because he was always busy

I am the right talent born in the wrong place (clear!)

And tell me how steadfast you seem

When you get naked like worms

And you dress up in your lyrics

And you would accuse me, but of what?

Last a day, Mariposa

If you don't hear the poem come on, go to Prozac

And then it will be feud in the Fight Club

Those who start will die with the same pen they draw

Stan everyone on the line-up winners' wagon

But if you don't get out who the fuck is pulling him?

Because if you do you will be a prophet but only after you die

No fame, no money, the same old story

I want concrete music not spotlight watts

My face got bloody, the same old story

You know the coin wins and every game has detractors

No game, no money, the same old story

Is the same old story

Is the same old story

I never feel better, surrender there’s no heaven

I never feel better, surrender there’s no heaven