Wake up for the tasteless prudence
The nostalgia for what wasn't lived
The missing what could have been
By a desperation taken as childish
By renouncement's whispers
Which is spat when they say:
"That's life, now, forget the wide smiles!"
The frightener voice of reason
And full of gold which tries to bite
With a face of resignation
With the bitter subjection
With the bitter subjection
