Cotidiano n° 2

There are days when I don't know what's going on
I open my Neruda and turn off the sun
I mix poetry with cachaça
and end up arguing about soccer

But there's nothing, no
I have my guitar

I wake up in the morning, bread with butter
and a lot, a lot of blood in the newspaper
then all the kids arrive
and I start to think Herod is natural

But there's nothing, no
I have my guitar

Then I do the soccer betting with the wife
who knows our day will come
and I laugh because the rich laugh for no reason
it also costs nothing to imagine

But there's nothing, no
I have my guitar
But there's nothing, no
I have my guitar

On Saturdays at home I get drunk
and dream of phenomenal solutions
but when sleep comes, the night dies
the day tells always the same stories

But there's nothing, no
I have my guitar

Sometimes I want to believe, but I can't
it's all complete nonsense
Then I ask God: 'Listen, friend,
if it was to undo, why did you do it?'

But there's nothing, no
I have my guitar
But there's nothing, no