Tus Cosas (part. Airbag)

Once again screaming alone
Not understanding and hating myself
Not knowing what to do

I’d rather have nothing
And definitely not depend on your shit
I only know how to lose

Your things don’t hurt me anymore
Even if they’re missing around here
I’m defusing a thousand bombs
And I’m sick of feeling this way
I love the efficiency of my self-deception
Or my madness that doesn’t make me suffer

And I’ve set fire to the scores
Like hell to what I wrote you

Your things don’t hurt me anymore
I hurt myself, not knowing how to feel
I’m shooting myself in the foot
Why so much? Just because

Last night I dreamed I was dreaming of you
The king of cups at dawn
The same old story: Not knowing who I am
Not knowing who I am
Who am I? Who am I?

Your things don’t hurt me anymore
Even if they’re missing around here
I’m defusing a thousand bombs
And I’m sick of feeling
Your things don’t hurt me anymore, I hurt myself, not knowing how to feel
I’m shooting myself in the foot, why so much? Just because