Traducir a
There are no songs left
Like those of Extremoduro
I don't give a damn
By chords that lie to me
I can't understand myself
I've been trying to stop wearing for a while
And no matter how hard I try
My head is more lost
My light bulbs have broken
that lit my path
Four posh people stoned them
Singing to the divine...
What is love
I want to be Evaristo
And I'm not too smart
If I tell you to your face
That you lie more than you blink
We don't want songs
Let them say that we have too much love
There are no eighth notes left
Neither black nor round
For the people who talk
Of what really matters
I spit at the moon
To light up your life
I'm not touching the eggs
With no lullaby
My light bulbs have broken
that lit my path
They broke them with stones
Four posh people singing to the divine...
What is love
I want to be Evaristo
And I'm not too smart
If I tell you to your face
That you lie more than you blink
We don't want songs
Let them say that we have too much love
And above Extreme
Get up people
We don't want stories
that we are different
And above Extreme
Get up people
We don't want stories
that we are different
What is love
I want to be Evaristo
And I'm not too smart
If I tell you to your face
That you lie more than you blink
We don't want songs
Let them say that we have too much love
And leave aside the sidewalk
From the back door
Where I saw you go
Like a watering can that grass
Makes it sprout again
And now everything is field
And here he dies at all hours
People inside my television
I want to hear a song
Don't talk about nonsense
And let it say that we have plenty of love
And let it end in yes minor
There are no songs left
Like those of Extremoduro
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