The Hammer of the Witches

Today life dies in falsehood
From cradle to grave, always in falsehood
And you let yourself be carried away like this
With your nonsense, you surrender

You carry your Saint Ernesto de La Higuera
And you replicate his whole world
You never come across anything good
You won't find it in the shop windows

We make another you, for you, (a beautiful clone)
The best wines there are
Are never in the supermarket

The owners of the legend they are
Those who ruin your pleasure
Your fake body looks bad
Like almost everything today
You buy posters of works of art
And carry your heavy costume jewelry

Would it not be a sin to endure
That they decide to spill it all at once?
Nice neighborhood, well-kept neighborhood
Modern loneliness
Serene and guarded neighborhood
Compassion is not there

Rough tide
Dark tide
And where is the guard?