Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song T'escric , by - AuxiliRelease date: 15.03.2018
Song language: Catalan
T'escric(original) |
| Per què escric? |
| Serà que em bullen les entranyes |
| O que t’estranye al meu pis |
| Per què escric? |
| Seran les pors que m’acompanyen |
| Que s’esborren entre els dits… |
| Jo no vull drames, del que tinc ganes |
| És que em berenes, jo vull verbenes amb tu |
| I que tornes a encendre’m les venes |
| Perquè a penes et tinc al davant ni al damunt |
| Distàncies llargues que desesperen |
| Escric, perquè tinc fam de tu! |
| M’esborre les llàgrimes dels ulls |
| I m’alimente d’estes frases |
| Escribo recordando aquel verano en el que nos conocimos |
| Recordando la pureza de aquella amistad |
| Todo el mundo hablaba y criticaba por la espalda |
| Pero eso no nos importaba, eso nos daba igual |
| Recuerdo caminando por el parque de la mano |
| Y tumbados en la hierba para fumar |
| Nos contábamos la vida y nos reíamos sin pausa |
| Esa es la causa por la que escribo ahora en la intimidad |
| Pinte els llençols de records al dormir |
| Sue tinta a les nits |
| M’arreplegue les rimes que em cauen del pit |
| I les munte en el llit |
| Destil·le el verí que ja no em puc tragar |
| Escric en lloc d’esclatar |
| Perquè em sobren motius per cremar |
| Al teu costat altre instant |
| T’escric perquè em bullen les entranyes |
| Perquè t’estranye al meu pis |
| T’escric, seran les pors que m’acompanyen |
| Que s’esborren entre els dits |
| Rime les penes amb rialles |
| Em curen les cançons |
| Que no parlen de victòries |
| Somiadors, rodamóns, trobadors |
| Col·leccionistes de tresors |
| Rime caderes amb esperes |
| Rime per canviar-ho tot |
| I no deixar d’estimar-te, paraules enllace |
| Per viatjar fins a tu, per tornar a trobar-te |
| Desde que te fuiste me asomo a la venta |
| Y busco tu reflejo en el cristal |
| E intento encontrar esa luz |
| Que apagaste al marchar y no estas |
| Desde que te fuiste no puedo volar |
| Las palabras no me salen |
| Y todos los sabores me saben a na |
| Me faltan tus colores en las sabanas |
| Pinte els llençols de records al dormir |
| Sue tinta a les nits |
| M’arreplegue les rimes que em cauen del pit |
| I les munte en el llit |
| Destil·le el verí que ja no em puc tragar |
| Escric en lloc de esclatar |
| Perquè em sobren motius per cremar |
| Al teu costat altre instant |
| T’escric perquè em bullen les entranyes |
| Perquè t’estranye al meu pis |
| T’escric, seran les pors que m’acompanyen |
| Que s’esborren entre els dits |
| (translation) |
| Why am I writing? |
| Will my gut boil |
| Or do you miss my apartment? |
| Why am I writing? |
| It will be the fears that accompany me |
| Wiping between fingers… |
| I don’t want dramas, which I crave |
| It's just that I have snacks, I want to talk to you |
| And that you light my veins again |
| Because I can barely stand in front of you or on top of you |
| Desperate long distances |
| I write because I am hungry for you! |
| I wipe the tears from my eyes |
| And I feed on those phrases |
| I write remembering that summer we met |
| Remembering the purity of that friendship |
| Everyone was talking and criticizing from behind |
| But we didn't care, we didn't care |
| I remember walking through the park hand in hand |
| And lying on the grass to smoke |
| We told each other our lives and laughed non-stop |
| That's why I'm writing in private now |
| Paint souvenir sheets at bedtime |
| Sue ink at night |
| I pick up the rhymes that fall from my chest |
| And mount them on the bed |
| Distill the poison that I can no longer swallow |
| I write instead of exploding |
| Because I have too many reasons to burn |
| Next to you another moment |
| I'm writing to you because my gut is boiling |
| Because I miss you on my floor |
| I am writing to you, it will be the fears that accompany me |
| That are erased between the fingers |
| Rhyme the pain with laughter |
| I am cured of songs |
| That they are not talking about victories |
| Dreamers, vagrants, troubadours |
| Treasure collectors |
| Rhyme hips with waits |
| Rhyme to change everything |
| And don't stop loving yourself, link words |
| To travel to you, to meet you again |
| I've been selling it since you left |
| And I look for your reflection in the glass |
| And I try to find that light |
| That you turned off when you left and you are not |
| I can't fly since you left |
| The words don't come out to me |
| And all the flavors know me |
| I miss your colors in the sheets |
| Paint souvenir sheets at bedtime |
| Sue ink at night |
| I pick up the rhymes that fall from my chest |
| And mount them on the bed |
| Distill the poison that I can no longer swallow |
| I write instead of exploding |
| Because I have too many reasons to burn |
| Next to you another moment |
| I'm writing to you because my gut is boiling |
| Because I miss you on my floor |
| I am writing to you, it will be the fears that accompany me |
| That are erased between the fingers |