Fed up of idioms, songs and rhymes,
I look up a synonym of false in a dictionary.
I want to hear beatiful things but I can't hear:
too many things in my head
and my head so far from my body.

Let the sun come out and blot everything out:
poems of decrepit monsters,
scourers of fear, wreaths and bunches,
my face in the mirror,
crazy artists, glass women
from the gossip magazines,
important people, brave bullfighters,
slimming pills.

Let me alone but not so long
because the silence scares me,
I hear the mechanism of time as it goes by.
Leve me alone but not so long because the music ends,
each note that's played isn't played again.
Fed up of idioms, songs and rhymes,
of looking shortsightly trying to see clearly.
Love me but not so much because the days
and nights and love and the future and the past end.

Let the sun come out and blot everything out:
poems of decrepit monsters,
scourers of fear, wreaths and bunches,
my face in the mirror,
crazy artists, glass women
from the gossip magazines,
important people, brave bullfighters,
slimming pills.

Let the sun come out and blot everything out:
poems of decrepit monsters,
scourers of fear, wreaths and bunches,
my bastard face in the mirror.
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