| There are days when I don't interact
|
| and hung in silence, like a spider from the ceiling,
|
| I watch my airspace, threatening everything that goes around.
|
| Spinning around a termite mound of thoughts,
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| that, chewing, feeds on the time that passes,
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| I sharpen my wait, I look and I see you see me.
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| I have gray days when I don't recognize myself,
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| flying a little heavy, I take in all the glass,
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| I get pissed off, humming, like an amplifier in paranoia
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| and with a sting, soaked in poisons,
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| looking for a pretext, looking for an excuse,
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| I sink my blows and suffocate the anger that screams.
|
| In frenetic moments of boredom ...
|
| I have gray days where I don't recognize myself
|
| flying a little heavy I take all the glass inside,
|
| I get pissed off, humming, like an amplifier in paranoia
|
| and with a sting, soaked in poisons,
|
| looking for a pretext, looking for an excuse,
|
| I sink my blows and suffocate the anger that screams.
|
| In frenetic moments of boredom ...
|
| There are days when I don't interact
|
| and hung in silence, like a spider from the ceiling,
|
| I watch my airspace, threatening everything that goes around.
|
| In frenetic moments of boredom ...
|
| In frenetic moments of boredom ... |