NO SÉ BIEN, PARA QUÉ

– I DON’T KNOW WHY –

Why did I come without looking back?
Why did I accept what may wait?
Why did I toss the stone of pain?
Why did I traffic the white illusion?
A dispensation of law.

Why do I try to sell my morals?
For what alienated do I try to escape?
Why do I delude myself with happiness?
Why do I fantasize in that fleeting love?

And impudence on the skin.
Oh, what for?
I don’t know well.

What do I risk my safety for?
Why did I emigrate from my homeland?
Why the big city lights?
What did I think everything was going to change for?
And the honey visa.
Why did I leave frugal Ecuador?
Why did I hide from authority?
Why did I cross the ocean of fear?
Why do I sleep in a cramped box?
I work until ten o’clock.

Why do I cook in this restaurant?
What’s the point of this merciless black salary?
Why do I sing on that boulevard?
Why do I sweep the central station?

I work till three o’clock.

Why do I learn this winter language?
Why do I save my peace of mind?
Why do I refuse even to say hello?
Why do I get entangled in nostalgia alone?
I’m going into the brothel.

I DON’T KNOW WHY
/ Lyrics / by rodrigotobar
Why did I come without looking back?
Why did I accept what may wait?
Why did I toss the stone of pain?
Why did I traffic the white illusion?
A dispensation of law.

Why do I try to sell my morals?
For what alienated do I try to escape?
Why do I delude myself with happiness?
Why do I fantasize in that fleeting love?

And impudence on the skin.
Oh, what for?
I don’t know well.

What do I risk my safety for?
Why did I emigrate from my homeland?
Why the big city lights?
What did I think everything was going to change for?
And the honey visa.
Why did I leave frugal Ecuador?
Why did I hide from authority?
Why did I cross the ocean of fear?
Why do I sleep in a cramped box?
I work until ten o’clock.

Why do I cook in this restaurant?
What’s the point of this merciless black salary?
Why do I sing on that boulevard?
Why do I sweep the central station?

I work till three o’clock.

Why do I learn this winter language?
Why do I save my peace of mind?
Why do I refuse even to say hello?
Why do I get entangled in nostalgia alone?
I’m going into the brothel.

Oh, what for…?

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