Mamá, Quiero Ser Artista

In the mirror of my room
A little girl floated in her nightgown
Instead of worrying about playing
She only cared about dreaming

That girl in the clouds was me
And I thought with all the reason
That there are just two kinds of people

Artists and everyone else

I pulled out old clothes from the trunk
And dressed up like in Hollywood
I was sick of singing and dancing
Or rehearsing the scene on the couch

I put on high heels
Stuck a flower in my braids
I painted my lips crimson
And looked for the courage to decide

Mom, I want to be an artist
Oh! Mom, to be the star
In furs or rags
As long as I’m in rags
Of a solo star that makes you sigh

Mom, I want to be famous
Oh! Mom, to be the most beautiful

To sign contracts and on stage
To walk daily on rose carpets

Mom, please, understand me
I want to be an artist

In the silence of my room
The pillow held my dreams
My name would shine like the Sun
With whimsical winks of neon

One fine day I made the decision, to carry my calling to the end
And ready for the martyrdom for my faith, I pronounced these four words

Mom, I want to be an artist
Oh! Mom, to be the star
In furs or rags
As long as I’m in rags
Of a solo star that makes you sigh

Mom, I want to be famous
Oh! Mom, to be the most beautiful

To sign contracts and on stage
To walk daily on rose carpets

Mom, please, understand me
I want to be an artist

Mom! I want to be an artist
Oh! Mom, to be the star
Oh! Mom

I want to be an artist, I want to be an artist, an artist
Mom, it’s inevitable, I want to be, an artist