Lyrics and translation Violadores del Verso - Zombis

Zombis

(Hate)

Allí yacía en el borde de una acera tirado,
Reposaba un desecho barrido hacia el alcantarillado,
Levántose con cara amarilla, despertáronle,
Y a una farola díjole hablándole de usted:
Oiga perdone busco un bar el más cercano,
El creyó entender: siga recto el de la esquina está cerrado,
Siguió su curso y echó mano al bolsillo,
Saco un pito y mirose sus dedos y vioselos ultramarillos,
No dudó en echarse otro a la boca,
Los avisos de muerte en el paquete, por lo que se ve no importan,
Optó, por entrar en otra tasca y darle al frasco,
Y un poco ofuscado se empezó a comer el tarro,
Se imaginó coger a un rapper de estos guaperas medio modelo,
Y engancharle un gancho a los huevos,
Tirar de él con una cadena atada a un Patrol,
Y desgarrarle la bolsa escrotal hasta oír sus llantos,
Que malévolo, necesita calma,
Que cojones le echó en el ron el hijo de puta del barman,
Necesitaba poner su cabeza en orden,
Y cambióse de bar y ambiente para acabar bien la noche,
Postró su culo en otro guariche inmundo,
Y con las últimas pelas pidióse su último tubo,
El pensaba "a ver si aquí me comporto y no me desvaría el coco" y se equivocó,
Pensó en raptar a otro rapero español de estos que están de modas,
Un bailarín con gracia y un desgraciado ahora,
Amordazarlo a cuatro patas y sus nalgas en pompa,
Y meterle un soldador ardiendo por el culo hasta la boca,
Deliraba, buscaba venganza a base de sangre,
Aquí perdones no valen, ¡Que te calles!,
Volvió en sí y se dijo "yo nunca lo haría aunque sería mi mayor fantasía",
Son los pensamientos más ocultos de este zombi nocturno,
De pelo largo, barba y moribundo,
Sho Hai era el medio muerto medio vivo con talento,
En este macabro intento de feliz cuento,

(Lírico)

Y así otra noche de este fantasma,
Sin alegrías ni penas, anda cumpliendo condenas, buscando respuestas,
Se fue dando portazos por no partirse la crisma en pedazos,
Echando el humo por la boca,
¿Quién gobierna esta cabeza loca?
Cual ciudad sin ley cuando se desboca,
Lamentando cada oportunidad perdida, relamiendo las heridas,
Y así anda resoplando por la vida,
Suspirando, tomando aire, tropezando con bordillos en la calle,
Doblando esquinas no espero a nadie,
Cortando el tráfico,
Volver a casa arrepentido no es trágico,
En la calle suena Doble V y eso es mágico,
Yo era un ladrón con talento,
Asaltando el firmamento robando estrellas,
Borrando las huellas,
Disimulando nuestras miserias,
Sin problemas que nos desborden,
Se que el universo pone las cosas en orden,
La conciencia me está gritando algo,
Que venga demostrándole al mundo lo que valgo,
Siempre pago lo que debo y lo que bebo,
Nada nuevo, me muevo, paso el relevo, agárrame si me elevo,
Vuelvo haciendo saltar las alarmas,
Preguntándome donde estaban las cámaras,
Que no las ves, pero te graban,
Las desafío escribiendo mi nombre,
Parece que el genio sea la razón de ser del hombre,
Y sea donde, se libre de la agonía,
Yo ando buscando armonía,
Siempre y cuando jamás nos falte compañía,
Y así encontré a Javat y a Hate,
Tres historias de película en tu cine mental,
Sobre una instrumental.

(Kase O)

Cuando cerraron el bar de la esquina,
Se vio en la calle con un frío de tres pares de cojones a las tres,
Solo como toda la tarde solo, con el Marqués de Cáceres,
Ciudadano sade con dejadez,
Un diez merece su memez,
Aislao de la gente por miedo a echarse a llorar de repente otra vez,
Toda la semana, ya sabes no tienen horario,
Gimiendo en las calles del barrio arrastraba sus pies,
Un portazo se oyó en toda la ciudad de repente,
Y despertóse un borracho barbudo en la acera de enfrente,
"Está cerrado no me trate de usted, más alante hay uno abierto en fin ve y bebe",
Cada uno por su lado se fue,
Nuestro amigo ya está fuera de sí, en fin, el diablo está en él,
Le aconseja ahorrar lo suficiente,
Encerrarse para siempre en algún lado,
Morir sin ser enterrado,
Bueno sí en el lodo de su mente,
Y así continúa este dúo, el búho y la serpiente,
Como describir ese drama,
Ese infierno interno, en el frío invierno, el eterno, camino a la cama caliente,
Ya se desploma creyéndose a salvo,
Se dispone para el coma pero se olvida de algo,
No tiene control y un sollozo involuntario,
Convierte su cama en un pozo y allí se retuerce,
Éxtasis extraordinario que nadie merece,
Entre la angustia y el gozo, el dolor y el placer se mecen,
Joven atormentado su nombre da igual,
Es el final de esta pesadilla real porque ya duerme.

Zombies

(Hate)

There he lay, sprawled on the curb's edge,
A discarded waste, swept towards the gutter's dredge.
He rose, his face yellow, awakened from slumber,
And to a lamppost, he spoke with utmost lumber:
"Excuse me, sir, I seek the nearest bar,"
He thought he heard, "Go straight, the one on the corner's afar."
He continued his course, reaching into his pocket's hold,
Pulled out a cigarette, saw his fingers, ultramarine and cold.
He didn't hesitate to stick another in his maw,
The death warnings on the pack, it seems, held no awe.
He opted to enter another tavern, to hit the flask,
And slightly dazed, began to stew and bask.
He imagined grabbing one of those tough rappers, half-model types,
And hooking a fist right into his hype.
Dragging him with a chain tied to a Patrol's might,
And ripping his scrotum open, till he heard his mournful plight.
How malevolent, he needed calm's embrace,
"What the hell did the bartender's son put in my rum's space?"
He needed to put his head in order's hold,
And changed bars and ambiance to end the night bold.
He placed his ass on another filthy stool's perch,
And with his last coins, ordered his final tube's search.
He thought, "Let's see if I behave and my mind doesn't stray," and he was wrong, you see,
He thought of kidnapping another trendy Spanish rapper, a sight to behold,
A graceful dancer then, and a wretch now, so cold,
Gag him on all fours, his buttocks in full display,
And shove a burning soldering iron up his ass all the way.
He raved, seeking vengeance through blood's embrace,
"No forgiveness here, just silence in this space!"
He came to his senses and said, "I'd never do it, though it'd be my ultimate fantasy,"
These are the most hidden thoughts of this nocturnal zombie,
With long hair, beard, and a body quite gloomy.
Sho Hai was the half-dead, half-alive with talent's spark,
In this macabre attempt at a happy tale, quite dark.

(Lírico)

And so, another night of this phantom's plight,
Without joys or sorrows, he walks, serving sentences, seeking answers bright.
He went slamming doors, to avoid shattering his skull in pieces' despair,
Exhaling smoke through his mouth, without a care.
Who governs this crazy head, I plead?
Like a lawless city when it runs with speed.
Lamenting every lost opportunity, licking his wounds indeed,
And so he goes, huffing and puffing through life's creed,
Sighing, taking a breath, stumbling over curbs on the street,
Turning corners, I expect no one to meet,
Cutting through traffic's heat,
Returning home repentant isn't tragic, it's sweet,
Double V plays on the street, and that's magic, can't be beat,
I was a talented thief, it's true,
Storming the firmament, stealing stars anew.
Erasing the traces, that's what we do,
Disguising our miseries, through and through.
Without problems that overflow, we're free,
I know the universe sets things in order, you see,
My conscience is screaming something at me,
Let it come, showing the world my worth, wild and free.
I always pay what I owe and what I drink, it's clear,
Nothing new, I move, I pass the baton, catch me if I disappear,
I return, setting off alarms with a blare,
Wondering where the cameras were, with a stare.
You don't see them, but they record, it's a snare,
I defy them by writing my name, without a care.
It seems that genius is the man's raison d'être,
And wherever he may be, let him be free from agony's tear,
I'm searching for harmony, it's near,
As long as we never lack company, my dear,
And so I found Javat and Hate, a trio so rare,
Three movie-like stories in your mental cinema, beyond compare,
Over an instrumental, a journey to share.

(Kase O)

When they closed the bar on the corner's bend,
He found himself on the street, with a cold that wouldn't end,
Alone like all afternoon, with the Marqués de Cáceres as his friend,
Citizen Sade with carelessness to lend,
His foolishness deserves a ten, it's plain to see,
Isolated from people, fearing he'd suddenly burst into tears, you and me,
All week long, you know they have no schedule's hold,
Moaning through the streets of the neighborhood, his feet dragged and cold,
A slam echoed throughout the city, sudden and bold,
And a bearded drunkard woke up on the sidewalk, we're told,
"It's closed, don't call me 'sir', there's one open further down, go and drink," he said,
Each went their own way, with a heavy tread,
Our friend is already out of his mind, the devil's in his head,
He advises him to save enough, to make amends,
To lock himself away forever, somewhere it all ends,
To die without being buried, fate suspends,
Well, yes, in the mud of his mind, it all descends,
And so this duo continues, the owl and the serpent's blend,
How to describe that drama, I apprehend,
That internal hell, in the cold winter, the eternal path to a warm bed's end,
He collapses, believing himself safe and sound,
He prepares for a coma, but something he hasn't found,
He has no control, and an involuntary sob's profound,
Turns his bed into a well, where he writhes and is bound,
Extraordinary ecstasy that no one deserves, it's renowned,
Between anguish and joy, pain and pleasure are found,
Tormented young man, his name doesn't matter now,
It's the end of this real nightmare, for he sleeps somehow.