La Mala Educación
Ruego que disculpen mis modales si no me levanto
Ya me he cansado de tender las manos y que rompan mis brazos
Y si alguna vez os miento juro que lo haré contando toda mi verdad
Sonreiré lo justo para no pagar los platos rotos de toda la ciudad
Y ya te has cansado de ponerle buena cara al daño
De que te pidan a la vez bellas mentiras y que hablemos claro
Y que finjamos conocernos y querernos, siendo dos extraños
Hartos de flores, cines, velas, protocolos, mentirosos que ya se marcharon
Sangras, ríes, lloras
Tienes forma, masa, volumen y color
Tienes tus heridas y solamente tú conoces su sabor
Sangras, ríes, lloras
Tienes forma, masa, volumen y color
Y como salvavidas una sinceridad vestida de mala educación
Una vez fijadas las premisas de este nuevo estado
Correrá la voz para que todos sepan cuánto hemos cambiado
Y sin embargo en lo más hondo de su pecho se ha colado algo de luz
Le ha susurrado las palabras, las verdades que aparecen en su cruz
No curan tus golpes, no limpian tu barro
No miran tus ojos, no tocan tus manos
Sangras, ríes, lloras
Tienes forma, masa, volumen y color
Tienes tus heridas y solamente tú conoces su sabor
Sangras, ríes, lloras
Tienes forma, masa, volumen y color
Y como salvavidas una sinceridad vestida de mala educación
Sangro, río, lloro
Tengo forma, masa, volumen y color
Tengo mis heridas
Y solamente yo conozco su sabor
Y ya te has cansado de ponerle buena cara al daño
The Bad Education
I beg your pardon for my manners if I don't get up
I'm tired of reaching out and having my arms broken
And if I ever lie to you, I swear I'll do it telling all my truth
I'll smile just enough to not pay for the broken dishes of the whole city
And you're tired of putting on a good face to the damage
Of being asked for beautiful lies and speaking clearly
And pretending to know each other and love each other, being strangers
Fed up with flowers, movies, candles, protocols, liars who have already left
You bleed, laugh, cry
You have shape, mass, volume, and color
You have your wounds and only you know their taste
You bleed, laugh, cry
You have shape, mass, volume, and color
And as a lifebuoy, a sincerity dressed in bad education
Once the premises of this new state are set
The word will spread so everyone knows how much we've changed
And yet deep down in their chest, some light has slipped in
It has whispered the words, the truths that appear on their cross
Your bruises don't heal, they don't clean your mud
They don't look into your eyes, they don't touch your hands
You bleed, laugh, cry
You have shape, mass, volume, and color
You have your wounds and only you know their taste
You bleed, laugh, cry
You have shape, mass, volume, and color
And as a lifebuoy, a sincerity dressed in bad education
I bleed, laugh, cry
I have shape, mass, volume, and color
I have my wounds
And only I know their taste
And you're tired of putting on a good face to the damage