from by Futuro

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(scroll down for translation)

Velho, você me mata todo dia

Com sua cara de quem poderia

Fazer o que quisesse

Sem se importar com qualquer idiota

Marca de pneu, pulmão de fumaça

Sabe, velho, eu deveria te matar

Mas qualquer idiota do planeta

Só queria estar no seu lugar
Com os punhos bem fechados

Eu tento me recolher, pois

Te ver morto seria o ideal

Mas prefiro te ver adoecer

Idiota, à ninguém irá comover

Um câncer…

Old man, you kill me every day
WIth a face like you could
Do whatever you wanted
Without caring about any other idiot
Skid marks, smoke filled lungs
You know, old man, I should kill you
But any other idiot in this planet
Would want to be in your place
WIth clenched fists
I try to recoil, because
To see you dead would be ideal
But I'd rather see you get sick
Idiot, nobody's going to be touched
A cancer...


from Hábitos Ruins, released March 9, 2015




Futuro São Paulo, Brazil

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