A twist that never ends.
hipernúcleo, rock de los 90, , adoración, fusión ambiental, polirritmo, rock punk,, sintetizadores nítidos, heavy metal, eterno, guitarra limpia y funky, cuerdas profundas, , anison, tambor de guerra, intensidad de construcción,
BassBoostedFLAC045·4:27
4:27
A twist that never ends.
hipernúcleo, rock de los 90, , adoración, fusión ambiental, polirritmo, rock punk,, sintetizadores nítidos, heavy metal, eterno, guitarra limpia y funky, cuerdas profundas, , anison, tambor de guerra, intensidad de construcción,
Creator: BassBoostedFLAC045Release Date: June 7, 2026
Lyrics
Verse 1
Sunday without noise, engine running,
the mind blank, the sky split.
I didn't want stories of thrones or egos,
just the road, friends, and fire.
But upon returning, the screen shouts at me,
the same old ones, the same blessed tune.
Promises that yesterday were clenched fists,
today they are warm whispers, already decaffeinated.
Pre-Chorus
And I, who just wanted to turn off reason,
I find myself once again swallowing the same script.
Chorus
How the discourse changes when they step on the ground
of the system they were fervently burning yesterday.
From "we will do" they moved to "we'll see,"
from the roar to the yawn, from fire to ice.
And it is early, too early,
to see them fold the story.
If someone tells me "you're in trouble, buddy,"
I wish, I desire it, I sign it, and I celebrate it.
Verse 2
Sequels, remakes, the same movie,
they change the costumes, but not the formula.
Where I said Diego, now I say "wait,"
that the pact tightens, that the chair weighs heavy.
They haven't even touched the cane and they're already limping,
the red lines now snake around.
And I watching, like a fool in line,
waiting for a turn that never ends.
Pre-Chorus
Maybe it's me, who already sees gamusinos,
or is it that political smoke clouds the paths.
Chorus
How the discourse changes when they step on the ground
of the system they were fervently burning yesterday.
From "we will do" they moved to "we'll see,"
from the roar to the yawn, from fire to ice.
And it is early, too early,
to see them fold the story.
If someone tells me "you're in trouble, buddy,"
I wish, I desire it, I sign it, and I celebrate it.
Bridge
And even tho I try to escape,
the verbiage traps me once again.
Maybe tomorrow, maybe later,
someone breaks the cycle this time.
Final Chorus
How the discourse changes when they step on the ground
of the system they were fervently burning yesterday.
From "we will do" they moved to "we'll see,"
from the roar to the yawn, from fire to ice.
And it is early, too early,
to lose my breath already.
If someone tells me "you're in love, mate,"
let them say it loudly, I accept it.
Sunday without noise, engine running,
the mind blank, the sky split.
I didn't want stories of thrones or egos,
just the road, friends, and fire.
But upon returning, the screen shouts at me,
the same old ones, the same blessed tune.
Promises that yesterday were clenched fists,
today they are warm whispers, already decaffeinated.
Pre-Chorus
And I, who just wanted to turn off reason,
I find myself once again swallowing the same script.
Chorus
How the discourse changes when they step on the ground
of the system they were fervently burning yesterday.
From "we will do" they moved to "we'll see,"
from the roar to the yawn, from fire to ice.
And it is early, too early,
to see them fold the story.
If someone tells me "you're in trouble, buddy,"
I wish, I desire it, I sign it, and I celebrate it.
Verse 2
Sequels, remakes, the same movie,
they change the costumes, but not the formula.
Where I said Diego, now I say "wait,"
that the pact tightens, that the chair weighs heavy.
They haven't even touched the cane and they're already limping,
the red lines now snake around.
And I watching, like a fool in line,
waiting for a turn that never ends.
Pre-Chorus
Maybe it's me, who already sees gamusinos,
or is it that political smoke clouds the paths.
Chorus
How the discourse changes when they step on the ground
of the system they were fervently burning yesterday.
From "we will do" they moved to "we'll see,"
from the roar to the yawn, from fire to ice.
And it is early, too early,
to see them fold the story.
If someone tells me "you're in trouble, buddy,"
I wish, I desire it, I sign it, and I celebrate it.
Bridge
And even tho I try to escape,
the verbiage traps me once again.
Maybe tomorrow, maybe later,
someone breaks the cycle this time.
Final Chorus
How the discourse changes when they step on the ground
of the system they were fervently burning yesterday.
From "we will do" they moved to "we'll see,"
from the roar to the yawn, from fire to ice.
And it is early, too early,
to lose my breath already.
If someone tells me "you're in love, mate,"
let them say it loudly, I accept it.