por. Facundo Ezequiel
Whom may you sue
When ev’rything you laud
Is nothing but a fraud?
Ain’t that a shame,
To have noone to blame?
It all has that filthy aura
Revolving in and out it’s guts.
So I started with booze at a very young age,
I could feel the world on my stomach,
Later I could feel it on my bladder,
On my prostate, on my glans penis.
I felt the joy of the world, whole, holy,
Then, when I felt like a gladiolus in bloom,
I bursted in pain, you know,
The most pure pain bleeding from every pore of my body.
But noone but me was to be blamed,
And, man, I was God, you know,
But how could you know?
Dancing on the tip of my toe nail;
The future scratching my back.
For all you can imagine I’m just an old drunkard,
The question is that if God was to be laying down on the street,
Smelling like urine and vodka, would you pick him up?
Would you even recognize him?
So if you think you’ll do, if you see me,
Gimme a wink,
Or even better,
A good wank.