
Date of issue: 25.03.2020
Song language: Spanish
Prioridades(original) |
Con esa mente, quiérete, comprométete |
A complacer al incompetente y bajarle los pies |
De la nube y ser su vecino de enfrente |
Ya verás qué bien te sientes |
Que morimos de dentro hacia fuera |
Que pisamos asfalto, territorio, carretera, sin dinero en la cartera |
Que poco queda pa' que escupas sangre en tu costado y seas polvo de estrella |
Suspensión, sientas que vuelas |
Energía microscópica, emulsiones emergentes, gente agnóstica |
Que se auto-diagnostica cien dioptrías |
El miedo es tu filosofía, es tu mantra, hipocondría |
Normal que te sientas fría si no gozas del calor de la empatía |
Te invito a delimitar lo que te retenía |
Te invito a preliminar futuras distopías |
Te invito a premeditar tu vida en armonía |
La mujer perfecta, la que no reza en tu altar |
La que ves tan de cerca pero no vas a tocar |
La que llamas estrecha, frágil masculinidad |
Llévate a tu vanidad a cenar, dosis de realidad |
La mujer perfecta, la que no sabes cuidar |
La que crees que compite pero no tiene rival |
La que llamas estrecha, frágil masculinidad |
Llévate a tu dignidad a cenar, se la come la cal |
Me siento en un quedabienismo constante |
Me encuentro al borde del abismo sin plegarias pa' que no me lance |
Que no he hecho los deberes, me subo por las paredes |
Empiezo a ser lo que todos quieren, la punta del iceberg |
Me estoy poniendo los cuernos |
Hipotermia y me ruegan silencio |
Si tengo ánima, ¿por qué me siento un simple cuerpo? |
Si no me anima na' y na' me anima, todo me mina la moral |
Si todo reside en la corteza cerebral |
Yo no es por divagar pero me siento un vegetal |
Si al menos me regaras, te diría de aguantar |
Pero me escupes en la cara ese veneno tan letal, gyal |
Pero me escupes en la cara ese veneno tan letal, gyal |
Pero me escupes en la cara ese veneno tan letal, gyal |
La mujer perfecta, la que no reza en tu altar |
La que ves tan de cerca pero no vas a tocar |
La que llamas estrecha, frágil masculinidad |
Llévate a tu vanidad a cenar, dosis de realidad |
La mujer perfecta, la que no sabes cuidar |
La que crees que compite pero no tiene rival |
La que llamas estrecha, frágil masculinidad |
Llévate a tu dignidad a cenar, se la come la cal |
(translation) |
With that mind, love yourself, commit yourself |
To please the incompetent and lower his feet |
From the cloud and be your next door neighbor |
You'll see how good you feel |
That we die from the inside out |
That we step on asphalt, territory, highway, without money in the wallet |
How little is left for you to spit blood on your side and be star dust |
Suspension, feel like you fly |
Microscopic energy, emerging emulsions, agnostic people |
That self-diagnoses one hundred diopters |
Fear is your philosophy, it's your mantra, hypochondria |
It is normal for you to feel cold if you do not enjoy the warmth of empathy |
I invite you to define what was holding you back |
I invite you to preview future dystopias |
I invite you to premeditate your life in harmony |
The perfect woman, the one who doesn't pray at your altar |
The one you see so closely but you won't touch |
The one you call narrow, fragile masculinity |
Take your vanity to dinner, dose of reality |
The perfect woman, the one you don't know how to take care of |
The one you think she competes but has no rival |
The one you call narrow, fragile masculinity |
Take your dignity to dinner, the lime eats it |
I feel in a constant stay well |
I find myself on the edge of the abyss without prayers so that I don't throw myself |
That I haven't done my homework, I climb the walls |
I start to be what everyone wants, the tip of the iceberg |
I'm cuckolding |
Hypothermia and they beg me for silence |
If I have soul, why do I feel like a simple body? |
If nothing encourages me and na' encourages me, everything undermines my morale |
If everything resides in the cerebral cortex |
I'm not digressing but I feel like a vegetable |
If you would at least water me, I would tell you to hold on |
But you spit that deadly poison in my face, gyal |
But you spit that deadly poison in my face, gyal |
But you spit that deadly poison in my face, gyal |
The perfect woman, the one who doesn't pray at your altar |
The one you see so closely but you won't touch |
The one you call narrow, fragile masculinity |
Take your vanity to dinner, dose of reality |
The perfect woman, the one you don't know how to take care of |
The one you think competes but has no rival |
The one you call narrow, fragile masculinity |
Take your dignity to dinner, the lime eats it |