Músico loco
Vive en su mundo que no es el nuestro
lleno de acordes...
Rodeado de notas cubierto de compases
quejios que quiebran el aire.
Su voz te suena a la melodia de sus canciones
cantar para vivir vivir para cantar ya que mas da...
Si su única preocupación es sacar una mera canción
que su guitarra no le heche de menos...
Su mente vuela cada día en un mundo que el mismo creó
y flotando en su nube de alegría él es feliz alli es feliz...
Le llaman loco porque camina a solas
tarareando y escribiendo unas notas
y en ese cuaderno lleno te tachones que siempre lleva encima...
Letras de amor de desengaño y penas
letras que cuentan historias letras...
que mas da lo que escriba si sale del alma
de este musico loco...musico loco...
Sueña con la música despierta con ella
vive enamorado de esa dulce doncella
de curvas de mujer y seis cuerdas...
Nadie le entiende nadie comprende lo que siente
cada vez que se deja llevar...
Su mente vuela cada día en un mundo que el mismo creó
y flotando en su nube de alegría él es feliz alli es feliz...
Le llaman loco porque camina a solas
tarareando y escribiendo unas notas
y en ese cuaderno lleno te tachones que siempre lleva encima...
Letras de amor de desengaño y penas
letras que cuentan historias letras...
que mas da lo que escriba si sale del alma
de este musico loco...
Y en cada canción late a compás su corazón...
Me llaman loco porque camino solo
tarareando y escribiendo unos tonos
y en este cuaderno lleno de tachones
que siempre llevo encima...
Letras de amor de desengaño y penas
letras que cuentan historias...letras...
que mas da lo que escriba si tan solo soy
otro musico loco...
musico loco...
Crazy Musician
He lives in his world that is not ours
full of chords...
Surrounded by notes covered in beats
lamentations that break the air.
His voice sounds like the melody of his songs
to sing to live, live to sing, what does it matter...
If his only concern is to produce a mere song
so his guitar doesn't miss him...
His mind flies every day in a world he created himself
and floating on his cloud of joy, he is happy there, he is happy...
They call him crazy because he walks alone
humming and writing some notes
and in that full notebook of scribbles he always carries around...
Lyrics of love, disappointment, and sorrows
lyrics that tell stories, lyrics...
what does it matter what he writes if it comes from the soul
of this crazy musician...crazy musician...
He dreams of music, wakes up with it
he lives in love with that sweet maiden
with womanly curves and six strings...
No one understands him, no one comprehends what he feels
every time he lets himself go...
His mind flies every day in a world he created himself
and floating on his cloud of joy, he is happy there, he is happy...
They call him crazy because he walks alone
humming and writing some notes
and in that full notebook of scribbles he always carries around...
Lyrics of love, disappointment, and sorrows
lyrics that tell stories, lyrics...
what does it matter what he writes if it comes from the soul
of this crazy musician...
And in every song, his heart beats in rhythm...
They call me crazy because I walk alone
humming and writing some tones
and in this notebook full of scribbles
that I always carry around...
Lyrics of love, disappointment, and sorrows
lyrics that tell stories...lyrics...
what does it matter what I write if I am just
another crazy musician...
crazy musician...