Текст и перевод песни Banda Bostik - Falsa Sociedad

Falsa Sociedad

Desde anoche camino
Pensando en mi vida
Dicen que soy un vago
Que vive en la maldad
Fumandome un cigarro
Y parado en la esquina
No me importa la gente
Tampoco el que diran

Una chamarra vieja
Me protege del frio
Un pantalon de mezclilla
Que no aguanta ya mas
Una playera negra
Un paliacate en el cuello
Y unos tenis ya viejos que
Inservibles estan

Solo espanta a la gente
Que pasa a mi lado
Por eso toda la gente
Es psicologa ya
Y dicen es un ladron es un vicioso
Es un vago
Porque mi cabello es largo
Y mi ropa es vulgar
Gente hipocrita que
Es tan falsa en la vida
Que juzgan sin conocerme
Que es en realidad
Que cuando ven al amigo
Tirado en la calle
En vez de ayudarlo
Prefieren cambiar
No me gusta la vida
Rutinaria del hombre
Que solo vive
Encerrado del trabajo al hogar
Que no tiene ninguna
Ilusion de ser alguien
Que solo espera ser viejo
Y la muerte al final

La gente pasa y me mira
Y dice pobre muchacho
Que clase de vida lleva
Dios lo quiera perdonar
Me juzgan sin conocerme
Sin saber que es de mi vida
Por estar parado en la esquina
Y mi vestimenta normal

Pienso en gente
La gente que pelea en esta vvida
Por poseer lo mejor
Tener mas que los demas
Siento gente falsa
Hipocrita y ambiciosa
Es una bola de inmensa
Aprendida verdad
Soy feliz en la vida
Que critica la gente
En la vida que detesta
Esta falsa sociedad
Me siento bien como vivo
Enmedio de esta gente
Que todos llama perdida
Sin conocer la verdad.

Artificial Society

Since last night I've been walking
Thinking about my life
They say I'm a bum
Who lives bad
Smoking a cigarette
And standing on the corner
I don't care about people
Or what they're going to say

An old jacket
It protects me from the cold
A pair of jeans
That don't resist
A black T-shirt
A bandana on my neck
And some old sneakers
That are already useless

It only scares the people
Who pass by me
For that reason all people
Are all psychologists now
And they say he is a thief is a he is a bad guy
He is a bum
Because my hair is long
And my clothes are vulgar
Hypocrite people who
Are so fake in life
That they judge without knowing me
Who I really am
That when they see a friend
Who has fallen down on the street
Instead of helping him
They prefer to move on
I don't like the life
The man's routine
Who only lives
Trapped between work and home
Who doesn't have any
Dream of being someone
Who only waits to be old
And for death to come

People pass by and look at me
And they say poor boy
What kind of life does he live
May God forgive him
They judge me without knowing me
Without knowing what my life is about
For standing on the corner
And for my clothes

I think about people
The people who fight
To have the best
To have more than the rest
I feel that people are fake
Hypocrite and ambitious
It's a pile of immense
Learned truth
I'm happy in this life
That people criticize
In this life that you detest
This artificial society
I feel good as I live
In the midst of these people
Whom everyone calls lost
Without knowing the truth.