PUTOS DÍAS COMO EL DE HOY

Tengo ganas de gritar, de cantar hasta desgañitarme la voz, de cagarme en la puta madre del inventor de los días como el de hoy, de golpear una puerta hasta partirme todos los huesos de la mano y verla destrozada astilla a astilla...

Conversion, software version 7.0,
Looking at life through the eyes of a tire hub,
Eating seeds as a pastime activity,
The toxicity of our city, of our city,

New, what do you own the world?
How do you own disorder, disorder,
Now, somewhere between the sacred silence,
Sacred silence and sleep,
Somewhere, between the sacred silence and sleep,
Disorder, disorder, disorder.

More wood for their fires, loud neighbors,
Flashlight reveries caught in the headlights of a truck,
Eating seeds as a pastime activity,
The toxicity of our city, of our city,

New, what do you own the world?
How do you own disorder, disorder,
Now, somewhere between the sacred silence,
Sacred silence and sleep,
Somewhere, between the sacred silence and sleep,
Disorder, disorder, disorder.

New, what do you own the world?
How do you own disorder....
Now, somewhere between the sacred silence,
Sacred silence and sleep,
Somewhere, between the sacred silence and sleep,
Disorder, disorder, disorder.

When I became the sun,
I shone life into the man's hearts,
When I became the sun,
I shone life into the man's hearts.