I allow myself a braggart tone like Newman
Mixing reality? and fiction like Truman
Hidden skeletons and related background stories of realistic news that speak of daily life
Day after day every passion is consumed
Everything here slowly becomes contaminated and as for my self-esteem
Not anymore? good routine the first time
but the nightmare that time will tear my plot to pieces
Here? it ruins it and we do it haphazardly
Between days when I feel like a mess or I feel complacent
Not caring at all about the results
In the year of my first twenty-five already? passed
My dramas archived
I'll stay what's up? little desire to confront myself
The esteem of those who know how to console me is enough for me
I don't think about the arrogance of those who want to attack me
I still have journeys to make
New trajectories, new stories
New shades of color for my memories
Already? the autopsy of all my utopias has been celebrated
I still have the pleasure of not being guilty of hypocrisy
Between days in which it seems like hell
To take on the role of the protagonist in today's scenario
I I reconfirm within your list
With whose tone? obsessed without acting like a social climber
Conquest after conquest
I rediscover myself as altruistic and there? again who and what blathers and confiscates
Another round a high scrum another mixed
The same blood the same beating heart.