Текст и перевод песни George Clinton - Break My Heart - Stop-Tha-Bleedin' Remix;

Break My Heart - Stop-Tha-Bleedin' Remix;

Relaciones amorosas, manual de cómo hacerlas correctamente.
Primera etapa, te ciegas del amor irracional y sin motivos,
Ella es la primera prioridad, está muy buena,
Y tu yo superficial ciega al racional, así que sale a cabalgar,
Llega el momento de decir lo perfecta que es,
Algo que afirmas ciegamente y en verdad no crees,
Pues ten cuidado, que en ese momento el cerebro de abajo,
Se crece y comete mil pecados.
Segunda etapa, todo va genial,
La madre se presenta sola, ya eres uno más,
La magia de verse en la calle, desaparece,
Y poco a poco, aparece, la rutina familiar.
Es cuando empiezas a pensar, si haces lo correcto,
Cosa que olvidas, el cerebro todavía está muerto,
Su mirada será un virus para tu razón
Y tanto que a veces olvidarás ponerte condón.

Solo, plantado, en mi foto familiar,
No esperes a nadie sé lo que te va a pasar,
Son ramos de flores al principio y nada más.
Nadie puede con las etapas del amor.

Tercera etapa, y es que no lo podéis aguantar,
Y alguno se queda en casa de otro a follar,
Dormir, almorzar, desayunar, la vida es bella.
Verás que medio armario tuyo empieza a ser de ella.
La confianza, empieza a pasar factura,
El amor se va y ya ni se te pone dura,
Se tira pedos en tu cama, se pone tu pijama,
Riéndose te avisa cada vez que caga.
Cuarta etapa, el amor pasó a ser odio,
Deja de pensar tu polla, deja de pensar su coño.
Cerebros que empiezan a ver al completo,
Y comienza la competición de cuernos siendo discretos.
La notarás borde, y tú lo notarás pesado,
Significa que en esta competición has ganado,
Contradictorio porque, ambos habéis perdido,
Ahora meses olvidando hasta comenzar otro partido.

Solo, plantado, en mi foto familiar,
No esperes a nadie sé lo que te va a pasar,
Son ramos de flores al principio y nada más.
Nadie puede con las etapas del amor.

Break My Heart - Stop-Tha-Bleedin' Remix;

Relationships, this is how to do them right.
Stage one, you are blinded by love at first sight,
She is the perfect ten, she's so fine,
And your upper brain is blinded by the grind, so go ahead and ride,
Tell her how amazing she is,
Even though you know it's not true, and you can't believe it,
'Cause at the time your lower brain,
Is running wild and doing all the thinking.
Stage two, everything is going great,
Momma comes around and you're doing the dishes,
The magic of seeing her out on a date,
Wears away, and soon the routine starts to enter.
Is this what I should be doing, you start to think,
But you forget, your brain is still fried,
Her looks are playing tricks on your mind
And sometimes you forget to wear a jimmy hat.

Left alone and blue in my Sunday suit,
Don't expect nobody, I know what you're going through,
Nothing but a bunch of pretty flowers.
Nobody can predict the stages of love.

Stage three, it's something that you can't contain,
So one of you goes to stay with friends for a bang,
Sleeping, eating, breakfast, life is so amazing,
And half of your closet begins to go missing.
Trust, begins to take its toll,
Love is gone and your prick won't get hard,
She farts in your bed, she wears your nightgown,
Laughing as she tells you how much she has to take a crap.
Stage four, love has now turned to hate,
Stop thinking with your dick, stop thinking with your box.
Brains begin to see the picture whole,
And the serious game of horns begins to take its toll.
You can tell she's pissed, and you can tell you're pissed too,
That means you've won the game, the horn competition,
But you've both lost, although you've both won,
Now months of forgetting until you start a new one.

Left alone and blue in my Sunday suit,
Don't expect nobody, I know what you're going through,
Nothing but a bunch of pretty flowers.
Nobody can predict the stages of love.