RIGHT TO LAUGH

I demand my legal right to laugh,
I have seen it on TV.
We’re getting bored,
We’re noticing more and more
That the bank is always the winner.

We’ve been prepared to compete and to destroy,
So we’d gain access to the paradise of joy.
But life looks much more like a broken toy
And the tic tac
Of the clock is
Driving us crazy,
The plan is too hazy.

Enjoy this INC of contradiction
whose addiction is ambition.
A bunch of money addicts
Powerful and snug,
are convinced:
and say “No to drugs!”

And what can we do in this corrupt world,
Where nothing’s beautiful if it can’t be sold.
It was supposed you’d win, but
you’re only growing old,
And the tic tac
Of the clock is
Driving us crazy,
The plan is still hazy.

And everywhere I go I see the same,
People don’t know where are they going,
History will judge us as an age of shame,
And we sit around doing nothing.

By the time, you can ask for your right to laugh,
And see your existence as a wasted land.

Men is the animal that never has enough,
And the tic tac of the clock is,
the tic tac of the clock is,
the tic tac of the clock is
driving us crazy, it’s keeping us crazy.

UNKNOWN FRIEND

Who are you, I feel you close
But I never really met you.
You’re a part of me, my blood,
My good luck and my bad news.

Even when I am alone,
In the bed or in the bathroom,
I can still feel you close,
Your scent beside your tune…

You come to steal my nerve,
And I’ll open the door,

Take it now,
I’m not afraid,
And all I have is yours my unknown friend.

All I have is yours, my friend,
But there’s no need to say it,
You are cheeky, unknown friend,
Every fruit tree has been shaken.

But I was the spy, the mole,
The traitor that was hidden,
I was there, I dug the hole,
Now I’m not to be forgiven.

I am guilty before myself,
It’s under my belt.

Will you come tonight?
I hate you as much as I miss you, don’t be late.

Don’t be late, my unknown friend,
I will wait for you in all these corners,
‘Cause temptation’s everywhere
here in the land of mourners.

Though tomorrow I’ll be proud
If tonight at last I avoid you,
Now I need to feel your shroud,
Your coldness and my fear, too.

I’m breaking every mirror
In my palace,
And I erase
The remains of yesterday.

Have mercy on me.
Don’t do it so slow.
Where’s my glance?

LADY IN WAITING

She stays in the background, in silent dating.
Secondary dress, lady in waiting.
She keeps at her place,
Expecting for the moment of her breakthrough
And the fight for the bouquet.
Patient,
She says there is no haste,
No need to worry, for so firm is the purpose.
Fragile, seen from far.
And tomorrow is always the day she lives waiting for.

I love risky games, and I’m always playing
A kind of Russian roulette whose rules I’m changing,
‘Because I sniff the bullets,
sending them right into my madness,
that grows fat and asks for more.
I feed it.
I am my brain, and I’m not ready
To swap intensity for length,
But when I see her, when I’m able to see,
I’d like to be anyone in this world but me.

From her eyes I caught a tear
With all the fragrance of her blues,
And dazed between her thighs
I know it’s almost ruined,
Slept upon her breast
She’ll try to start me up
But my mind has moved
too far.
And I’m crawling like a bug,
Near the grave that I dug.

An uncomfortable gift.

She’s out now for food,
I’m preparing my charade…

I’m shaving with a rusty razor blade.

She looks right and left before crossing the street.
And I love the way she scrutinizes in her purse to find the key.

SQUARE DEAL

I know each corner in this town,
I know the fun streets.
But not like a taxi driver,
There are no cars where I mean.

Places made to get a square deal.

One’s dressed up as a football player,
One’s stuck on his bike,
They all are your unknown friends
And they’ll frisk you as you like.

If you’re a cop you have to tell’em it, if they ask.

It’s too late for a last drink, and it’s Tuesday, clubs are closed.
It’s too late for a sweet dream,
When you’re used to dream awake.
It’s the time for a square deal.

He makes a signal with his hand,
He whistles and you go like a meek dog.
The hidden treasure in the trash,
In the garbage can he controls.

You feel his action at a distance,
He’s such a magician.

You’re a voodoo doll, a puppet,
Prince of submission.

It’s too late for advices, ‘cause you had them and denied them.
It’s too late for the dices, the casino closed long before.
It’s too late for a square deal….

Where’s the square deal?
Is it your anguish
What you payed that
money for?

Is it your annulment,
What you are pursuing?
It’s arguments collapsing
At the law courts you are refusing.
Where is the square deal?

DAMN RITUAL

Every time I put my feet back on the ground
I say to myself this one‘s been the last round,
But I’m beginning to get sick of my lousy lies,
What’s coming next, a faked voice or a good disguise?

I promise not to worry,
I’ll take me as I am,
I’ll take the brilliant thoughts
Beside the crudest facts.
The nausea in the morning,
The nightmare of the gore,
The skill to see clear
What are we here for.

Expensive pockets, all my wealth is hidden there
In the little bag into the bag, I treat with care.
And I’m alone with me and my lack of restraint
At one of the places where I like to faint.

And I don’t have to hurry,
The ritual takes its time,
You have to dry the cistern
You want to enlighten your mind.
You can’t miss the chance,
And in spite of what you swore
You were not here to dance
…………………………..
Again again again again….. again this fucking man that bangs the door.

NOT TOO WEIRD

Now, life’s a bore,
At a standstill,
A slow motion film,
except when you’re near.
You make me free,
You look like real,
The sight of your dress,
And my scars seem to heal,
We are together
And you make me forget
The worst of me,
The mirror almost dead.
We are together
And I feel able to jump
Over anything,

So stay with me,
It’s not so far,
It’s not too late,
It’s not too weird.

Love, I can’t be still,
I always need to move,
But around a fixed point
And this point could be you,
I’m just trying to say
That I need you by my side
I know it’s spent words,

But they mean something,
Come with me,
It’s not so far,
It’s not too weird.

I’ll sing for you,
La la la la laaaaa,
La la la la….

Come with me,
It’s not so far,
It’s not too late,
It’s not too weird,
No, not too weird.

YOUTH, PART II

Well it’s Friday evening, I get home tired, and I hate my job and I am sick of my shy and silly boss.
Is there anything he knows how to say?
I sleep half an hour, and there’s frozen pizza and Quique phones me from the money transfer office and he says “what’s up? There won’t be another day like today!”

Yes, it’s true- I say.
Days vanish every day.

I get soaked with cologne, it’s at five minutes, he will give me small change, I’ll wait them at the slot machines saloon. Coco’s coming there too.
There’s a street out from the Royal Square, where there’s “The Golden Shield”, also called “Ramonet”, nobody knows the reason for the name.

Drinks are very cheap there,
And there are small pasties and boiled eggs.

Upstairs there’s nobody, and we’re free for doing anything we want to, it’s like being out from territorial waters, we are the law.
And at the Wonderful Bar, we fake we are dancing and we go to the bathroom and we queue up and we’re three on a square meter, does it matter?

Aren’t we the oldest guys in the place?
Yes, but I wouldn’t call it a disgrace.

Then we are in Panams, I read “Crime and punishment”, and drink for free under the red lights of the ancient brothel, beside my dear waitress.
And we know the DJ, and the song is mine, I think it’s “Big or Nothing”, from my dear “Pink Album”, and we dance excited, I love the decadence of this discotheque.

And when they close, we have breakfast with them,
Who’s that girl? Her name began with M.

Then we’re in a house, we don’t know the owner, but someone’s got his trousers down and he’s slept, we all guess what he was trying to do.
And we wake up somewhere like a tube station, and we wish that fortune had put it next to our home sweet home, the night has been so long…

I feel years go on and on,
I push the lever to get out and yawn.

SUNDAY RESCUE

The sun’s a fucking sphere,
well a blind’s not so dear…
Somebody is in my head
trying to break a hammer.

My mouth’s a restless dune,
my hair is ashtrays perfume,
My clothes are creased islands
on the room floor.

Oh I’ve been bad.
I remember a few things:
The neon masquerade,
the dirty bathroom.

An overacted Hamlet,
too obsessed to be true,
Pathetic ladies’ man,
depressive Romeo.

I go crawling to the bath,
And beside the mini-bar,
I shiver like a hen
that sees a hatchet.

And I think about milk
as an ancient remedy.
There might be a touch of truth
In old fashioned advices.

I’ll get out of this.
As I’ve done so many times.
It’s just the other side of my golden coin.

I’m waiting for Sunday
to come to my rescue.
There’s mass on TV.
Again the same priest.

There’s a region of my brain
Worried with this chosen wane,
And it comes out as mad, disgusting voices.

The whisper’s turning into shout,
One day I’ll talk aloud.
And anyone around me will hear this:

To hell with me.
It’s a lie after a lie.
I’m half myself
and half an unknown substance.

I’m waiting for Sunday
to come to my rescue.
I’m captive in a spiral,
don’t let me go on.

I’ll get out of this.
As I’ve done so many times.
It’s just the other side of my golden coin.

I’m waiting for Sunday
to come to my rescue.
I’m captive in a spiral,
don’t let me go on.

ROCK BOTTOM

I followed his footprints
Through streets of cobblestone,
Steep spiral staircase.
He turned left and soon was gone.

All my money is only stained paper,
And those broken bottles
Offer themselves as a carpet
And the…

… Sun is up in the sky,
People is buying bread.
Shades don’t hide me
From quick judgements
That sentence me to death.
Sad attempts to jump the queue,
Trying to get into the tube,
There’s a mirror
At the souvenir shop, is this you?

Monochromatic symphony wakes me up,
End of line, last car.
Inverse breakfast, a little less pain,
Poor shirt, a newborn stain.

I sweat in winter,
And my throat ‘s a chimney,
Yesterday’s newspapers
Are announcing my decease
And from the…

…floor I take a sweet,
the same brand I used to love in the past,
I barely remember,
The moment, the day
When it all began to run fast,
When the bed became a healing machine
And the food turned into medicine.
I‘ve lied my brothers
As they tried to warn me

They said: Boy, don’t do it that much,
It’s funny at first, alright,
But sooner or later,
Sooner or later,
You’ll see the subtle bars,
The only good thing of hitting rock bottom
Is that you can’t go no longer down:
Rise from your ashes,
If there’s yet any small spark around.

Rise from your ashes,
If there’s yet any small spark around.

IT BECOMES BLURRED

We are thrown up to this world,
Among tears and spitting of blood,
A little slap, milk and a sack,
And fuck you, that’s your welcome pack.

In a place where nobody knows,
In a land that no one understands,
In the depths of the dirty well
We are dragging our pain

We’re so alone,
There’s no expert, there’s no god.
There’s no reason for going on,
Nothing to protect, nothing own,
We are crawling on the trash
Fed with scraps and rotten crumbs,
And there is nothing to claim,
We’re immersed in a weird game.

How are you so sure when you judge me?
Where are your credentials, where your right?
A moral built upon the arbitrary
Isn’t a foundation to show off.

And it’s easier to belong somewhere,
To feel accepted and adopt a model,
Use a template to draw yourself,
Try to smile when someone smiles.

I’m so alone.
It’s because I’m trying to be fair,
Independent and neutral,
I only want to find my true essence.
But I stumble with my neighbors
Grouped they look big and diffuse,
But it’s like zebras at the savannah:
They show their weakness trying to confuse.

And I think it’s too easy
To join them and feel protected,
So I swap a second of reality
For a lifetime of convenience,
And it gets loner and loner….

I’m so, so alone,
I have lost my clothes, my faith,
My friends.
I peel the onion and it’s only layers,
There’s no nucleus, nothing at the end,
It’s like a space trip to a black hole
But I didn’t climb the ship.
We all did it once together,
With the behavior of the sheep.

And you, with your eyes you accuse me,
It’s a suicide, and perhaps it is,
But I have nothing to keep,
And the boat is leaking,
My head aches, my head aches

PARTY ON THE DECLINE

Someone’s trying to throw up but she can’t
On the sofa, she’s a nymph of black nails,
She has gone too far, she overstepped the mark,
Like almost all of us.

In a nook a body is moving slow,
Following the music with his head,
And he loves the songs he listens to for first,
But he can only guess.

Behind ochre curtains the sun rushes us,
Prepared to shame the doubtful ones.
But our nerve is buried and it’s all the same,
An ordinary hangover, a few days in prison,
Or a sudden death.

That neighbor spent his minimum wage
On phone calls that somebody ignored,
The police won’t come for a silly thing like this,
Why don’t you just enjoy “the man who sold the world”?

I think the boy with the purple shirt lives in this house,
He will tell me again where’s the bath.
It’s ten in the morning, and someone proposes
To go out for coke, as a step to avoid
The night on a slope.

But a new night is closer than the night we went out,
And in times you can see it with the eyes of doubt,
Limits are too free to be real,
And someone trod on my hand,
Someone trod on my hand,
I hate it when someone treads on my hand.

SUCH A BEAUTIFUL WORLD

I’ve been blinded by stars that shone in my window,
Immersed in a spiral, following a line,
I’ve forgotten the sun hidden behind the billow,
Believing that feeling strong was feeling fine,

Oh, but life is so rich, with its days and its nights,
With its time to take care, and its time to pass by,
It’s so beautiful, it’s so beautiful to be alive.

I have treated with beggars as powerful as kings,
That saw in my weakness a path to get in,
And I will never fall into the ditch any more,
The drawbridge is up and I’m in the right shore.

I declare with this words I have nothing to chase,
I’ve appeased the beast, I have passed the phase,
I have found a way; I have found a way out of the maze.

I have welcomed those mornings I smelt from dawn’s gate
When I’ve said she was sudden, she’s said I was late,
But the door is still open, in spite of the throng,
Despite all the time she thought I had been wrong.

Oh, but love’s like an ant, mighty and small,
Like a giant of mud, it is nothing and it’s all,
And it’s a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,
Such a beautiful,
Such a beautiful, such a beautiful world.

It’s a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,
Such a beautiful,
Such a beautiful, such a beautiful world.