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Translation
Bipolar
I know that one goes without H, this is the style
Even though there are days where I feel like Atilla the hun.
When the night dazzles me and also derails me
I continue to be the last in line
And the swinging animates me like a swing
I go by being a hurricane to a Zen master
Sometimes a volcano with the power of Superman
And later I see that I am Clark Kent
I see the future and I think of myself as the king of the empire
Until I read my gravestone in the cemetery
Seriously, If I give up to the current like an eel
My battery expires and I am left without an amp
I can be on top with nothing on top
And well high is my estimated self-esteem
To fall from this stage
And explode like the bomb that erased Hiroshima off the map
And emperor like the climate, changes his coat for a blouse
And I hold on to the accelerated drop on the Russian mountain
I can be perfect without excuses
I am the opposite of straight a like hypotenuse
I go down and I go up
I stop and I continue
I get up
Bip bip bip bipolar
I go up and I go down
I continue and I stop
And I drown
Bip bip bip bipolar
Because of this do not trust me
I have more taboos than the hindus and pakistanis
Can I place the points about your feet?
Later remain deceased to ski without skis
This is how false my thoughts are
The one who laughs last thinks slower
I lie without seeming friendly and courteous
I am intouchable like Elliot Ness
There are days when I am the other way around and I go with grief to hell in an elevator instead of a stairway to Heaven
Robert Plant can't save me nor the luck of Bugs Bunny
I dress like Gandhi and I think like Armani
But my defects do give me a complex
The effect of shame are bullets that afflict me
I see them like marks in vague forms
And more than scars after they like sores
I go down and I go up
I stop and I continue
I get up
Bip bip bip bipolar
I go up and I go down
I continue and I stop
And I drown
Bip bip bip bipolar
Down, like a boxer underground
That never passes the first round
But he straightens la proa
And strong like a boa who wins more fights than Rocky Balboa
At times I feel like Prince Charming I will confess
Others not so beautiful, a toad begging for a kiss
¿And these? A cocktail of oil and water
It seems like it was directed by Buñuel or Kurosawa
At times I protest want I am feeling
But then I regret these feelings
Therefore it's when my answers pile up
and fly in the wind like those of Dylan
My days, go by and kill my soul
There are calm days and others in which I want a weapon
My calm disarms like an zip file
And it begins to sound my alarm bip bip bip
I go down and I go up
I stop and I continue
I get up
Bip bip bip bipolar
I go up and I go down
I continue and I stop
And I drown
Bip bip bip bipolar
Guest on 2014-10-03
Pulp Fiction✕
El Cuarteto de Nos: Top 3
| 1. | Enamorado tuyo |
| 2. | Lo Malo De Ser Bueno |
| 3. | Ya no se qué hacer conmigo |
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