De nada sirve [English translation]

It's worthless to escape from oneself.

It's worthless to escape from oneself.

You can go twenty hours to the movies

and smoke till death.

You can date a thousand women;

you can call your friends.

It's worthless to escape from oneself.

It's worthless...

You don't realize it's worthless

to play drums, to follow the steel mill,

no, it's worthless.

no, it's worthless.

You can go twenty hours to the movies

and smoke till death.

You can date a thousand women;

It's worthless to escape from oneself.

What's the worth of the refrigerators

washing machines, television sets

new cars and relations

and friendships and positions?

If they're boring and rotten

of this rotten world...

No, it's worthless.

No, it's worthless.

The ones who go to the office say that all is worthy.

The ones who go to the harbor have backaches.

The ones who do music, believe that the most important

is worthless

if one uses it for the inner loneliness

that always runs on us, that always runs on us.

Always runs on us.

When they're alone, they're very alone;

there are no guitars nor amplifiers.

They're alone in the bed and start to look at the ceiling;

start to look at the ceiling and there's nothing in the ceiling.

There's only a ceiling.

What can they do? What can they do?

It's too late, it's three in the morning,

The bars are closed, women sleep,

the theaters are closed too,

you can't play the guitar,

or else the neighbor will wake up.

What can I do? What can I do?

What can I do? What can I do? What can I do?

I'm lonely and so bored

I don't know what to do. What is life?

What is this world? What am I?

I'll go crazy, I don't know what to do

I don't know what to do

In that moment you find out

that all is stupid.

When they go on summer holidays and do the shake

with their central American movements,

fabricated sensuality,

trying to pick up women.

But they're hollow and very rotten.

We go back to bed, which is a great place

to sleep or also to have sex.

When they make it, it's hard in this world,

it's regimented...

They bite the pillow of desperation.

They don't know what to do with their lives, all failed.

They chewed gums, they ate chocolates,

they read Radiolandia 1, they called their friends

they dated a thousand women, they recorded thirty thousand records,

they were famous, they signed autographs,

they ate their fill, they smoked till the end.

And what's left?

Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.

There's one thing that is worthy,

that worth to this humanity,

and is to figure out that it's worthless

if one uses it to escape from oneself.

From oneself.

Friend, I give you an advice though I don't give them:

try to do the test of stopping the machines,

the machines that you carry within

and look what's going on

what's going on

when loneliness and boredom gets you.

Don't listen records of Bob Dylan, or The Beatles,

or the Rolling Stones or Mick Jagger.

Lots of silence, lots of silence,

lots of thinking, lots of thinking,

lots of meditating, lots of meditating,

no evasion, no evasion and think

What is happening to me?

What happens to me? What happens to me?

What happens to me? What happens to me?

I'm intelligent and I'm also intellectual

I'm very intelligent but I'm so bored.

I'm alone and bored.

What is happening to me?

I still can't explain it to myself,

please somebody tell me.

I can't get out of myself, I'm too locked

in my flesh and bone prison.

I'm locked in my flesh and bone prison.

I can't get out, I can't get out.

I'll die inside of myself.

Before dying I wanna get out,

to see the stars, the sea, I wanna drown

I wanna get out, of myself please,

I wanna go, I wanna go

I wanna live, of myself please,

I don't want evasion, I want to live

What can I do? What can I do?

There's nothing to do.

You gotta live, you gotta live

you gotta live, you gotta suffer,

you gotta feel, you gotta love,

you gotta risk, you gotta play,

you can't have safety, you can't have any property,

you gotta risk, you gotta risk yourself, you gotta get out

to get your face smashed, to get killed, to get stomped.

You gotta love anybody,

you gotta hate anybody.

Oh, what can I do? I'm lonely

I'm lonely and everyone pass by my side.

Nobody looks at me, nobody looks at me

or if they look at me is for locking me.

I'm very locked.

It's worthless.

It's worthless to escape from oneself.

1. A tabloid magazine

• Artist:Moris
• Album:Treinta minutos de vida