La Puerta de Atrás - No Te Va Gustar

Raro cómo nos mienten en vivo

En la cara aunque se vea el disfraz

Nos marean y nos mantienen en vilo

No nos muestran nunca la puerta de atrás

Mientras tanto peleamos buscando la razón

Horas y horas

Te impulsan a que vos mismo construyas el cajón

Que en cuotas vas a tener que pagar

Uno baja sus expectativas

Y se vuelve fácil de manipular

La memoria, tan primordial como esquiva

Es lo único que nos puede salvar

Mientras tanto peleamos buscando la razón

Horas y horas

Otros toman el vino de la especulación

Con el que nunca vamos a brindar

A los dueños no los nombran

Lo que falta es lo que nunca va a llegar

La nariz contra la alfombra

Ni nos matan, ni nos dejan levantar

Y mientras tanto peleamos buscando la razón

Horas y horas

Otros toman el vino de la especulación

Con el que nunca vamos a brindar

Y a los dueños no los nombran

Lo que falta es lo que nunca va a llegar

La nariz contra la alfombra

Ni nos matan, ni nos dejan levantar

Me niego a que me mientan en vivo

En la cara, ya no los quiero ver más

Son escudo de quien maneja los hilos

No nos muestran nunca la puerta de atrás

A los dueños no los nombran y ya no los quiero ver más

Que se queden con la alfombra y con la puerta de atrás

Weird how they lie to us live

In the face even if the costume is visible

They make us dizzy and keep us on edge

They never show us the back door

Meanwhile we fight looking for the reason

hours and hours

They encourage you to build the drawer yourself

That in installments you will have to pay

You lower your expectations

And it becomes easy to manipulate

Memory, as primordial as it is elusive

It's the only thing that can save us

Meanwhile we fight looking for the reason

hours and hours

Others drink the wine of speculation

With which we will never toast

The owners are not named

What is missing is what will never come

The nose against the carpet

They don't kill us, nor do they let us get up

And meanwhile we fight looking for the reason

hours and hours

Others drink the wine of speculation

With which we will never toast

And the owners are not named

What is missing is what will never come

The nose against the carpet

They don't kill us, nor do they let us get up

I refuse to be lied to live

In the face, I don't want to see them anymore

They are the shield of those who pull the strings

They never show us the back door

They don't name the owners and I don't want to see them anymore

Let them keep the carpet and the back door