lyrics

cuando las leyes se escriben (when laws are written).

Frausto 2 Comments

cuando las leyes se escriben.

mira, mira como cai,
el pueblo se tira,
y la mentira se estira.
la mentira se estira.

aquí no habra espacio
pa’ que existan
todos los pueblos
siempre unidos?

a que este mundo tan confundido.
queremos vivir en paz,
pero con tantas guerras-
pues ya no se puede.

y donde cabremos
dentro de este sistema sin frenos?
en donde acabaremos
si nunca se nos ha tomado en cuenta
cuando las leyes se escriben
y se las inventan?

mira, mira como cai,
el pueblo se tira,
y la mentira se estira.
la mentira se estira.

yo no llegue,
a mi me trajieron para acá,
y yo no escoji en donde nací.
soy ciudadano del mundo.

yo decido
como me identifico,
en que idioma me explico,
y con que lengua describo
a el universo que exploro
al soñar y al despertar.

al soñar y al despertar
salgo siempre a navegar
con un plumón y mil palabras
traigo ojos como una cámara
para no olvidar.
para ya no olvidar.

mira, mira como cai,
el pueblo se tira,
y la mentira se estira.
la mentira se estira.

07.09.14.

listen to the track here on soundcloud.

translation:

 when laws are written.

look, look how it falls,
the people cower,
and the lie stretches itself.
the lie stretches out.

there must not be room here
for all of the people
to exist
always united?

oh what a world, so confused.
we want to live in peace,
but with so many wars-
well, we can’t anymore.

and where will we fit
within this system without brakes?
where will we end
if we’ve never been taken into account
when the laws are written
and they get invented?

look, look how it falls,
the people cower,
and the lie stretches itself.
the lie stretches out.

i didn’t come,
they brought me here,
and i didn’t choose where i was born.
i am a citizen of the world.

i decide
How i identify myself,
in which language i explain myself,
and with what tongue i describe
the universe, which i explore
while i’m dreaming and awake.

while i’m dreaming and awake,
i go out and navigate
with a pen and a thousand words,
with my eyes like a camera,
so i don’t forget.
so i won’t now forget.

look, look how it falls,
the people cower,
and the lie stretches itself.
the lie stretches out.

translated 07.15.14.

¿quien se acuerda? (who remembers?)

Frausto 5 Comments

¿quien se acuerda?

¿quien se acuerda cuando fuimos?
¿quien se acuerda lo que fuimos?
¿lo que somos?
¿seguiremos siendo?

como una ola del mar,
ó una piedra rolando
que en el camino se encuentra.
como una brisa del viento,
una caricia y un beso
del planeta y universo,
un instante y un momento
pues es lo mismo
si nuestro amor es eterno.

tu me quieres.
yo te quiero.
yo te amo.
tu me amas,
y como pájaros, los dos,
brotamos alas
para no enredarnos
entre las ramas
de nuestro jardín.

hasta convertirnos
en oxigeno para los dos
para sobrevivir,
para poder existir.

sin ti yo no quiero seguir.

tu me tienes.
yo te tengo,
y así vamos andar
como unas olas del mar
ó piedras rolando
que en el camino se encontraron.

¿quien se acuerda cuando fuimos?
¿quien se acuerda lo que fuimos?
cuando lo que somos,
seguiremos siendo
es lo único que importa.

y nuestra pequeña familia.

07.02.14.

who remembers?

who remembers when we were?
who remembers what we were?
what we are?
will continue being?

like a wave from the sea,
or a rolling stone
that on the journey is found.
like a breeze from the wind,
a caress and a kiss
from the planet and universe,
an instant and a moment
well it’s the same thing
if our love is eternal.

you want me.
i want you.
i love you.
you love me,
and like birds, both of us,
grow out wings
so as to no become entangled
amongst the vines
of our garden.

until we become
oxygen for both of us
to survive,
to be able to exist.

without you i don’t want to go on.

you have me.
i have you,
and that’s how we’ll go on
like waves from the sea
or rolling stones
that on the journey found each other.

who remembers when we were?
who remembers what we were?
when what we are,
will continue being
is the only thing that matters.

and our little family.

translated 07.15.14.

melt into one.

Frausto 23 Comments

melt into one.

the days, the days,
they all melt into one.
the days, the days,
they all melt into one.

individual snowflakes and fingerprints,
no two are alike,
but are we really so different
when we remove the layers
of what we think we are
as we all stand naked on an island,
but i don’t want to live alone,
and i need human beings
‘cause solitary conversations and monologues
are just not healthy.

i don’t like interacting with the TV
or responding to a show,
and conversing with a host
that doesn’t even know i exist.

individual snowflakes and fingerprints,
then why do we all choose to
live like slaves
when wu-tang already taught us
to call each other gods?
but nietzsche boasts,
god is dead.

the days, the days,
they all melt into one.
the days, the days,
they all melt into one.

wake up, woke up.
it was all too hard.
return to sleep,
return to sheep,
and all the pain and secrets
that we keep.

wake up, woke up,
and it gets so hard
to just not give up,
to not become corrupt
or sacrifice ideals,
to keep it real,
to simply fucking feel.
in such a plastic fucking world,
how does one maintain whole
without feeling part of soul
slowly, sold out, away?

all of our dreams out on display
or put on lay away.
individual snowflakes and fingerprints,
but the modern world is a fatalistic
future for the majority (of us),
which are just
peons and clogs in this machinery.

the days, the days,
they all melt into one.
the days, the days,
they all melt into one.

and every single day,
we die the same way
for the things we do not say
from our feelings,
which bring us shame.

06.12.14.

on the streets, it’s all static.

Frausto 15 Comments

on the streets, it’s all static.

one day i awoke,
and i saw myself
as i truly was,
and i sank into an abyss,
and i sank into an abyss,
and i sank into an abyss.

staring at the empty of my eyes,
ringing hollow like someone’s lies.
no, i won’t mention any names,
and i realized then
that anything i could say
would just sound lame,
that anything i could say
would just sound lame
‘cause we all stand upon a stage
to which we’re mere actors-
nonfactors.
how you figure when a kid
pulls a trigger?
give me some statistics.
on the streets, it’s all static.
on the streets, it’s all static.
on the streets, it’s all static.

it’s no wonder
that the kids are all confused
when there’s no direction,
which way to go to escape
poverty and all the other stigmas
associated with being poor.
so what’s more important
that we teach you?
to learn to compete for a job
in a market or globally with china?
to be a good student, a hard worker, and good employee?
but for whom and for what and to what end?
but for whom and for what and to what end?
till the job ends up killing you?
till the job ends up killing you?
till the job ends up killing you?
till the job ends up killing you?
because you are replaceable,
because you are replaceable,
because you are replaceable,
and yeah so am i.

’cause this is just the way it is;
the way things have always been,
but can we teach you to dream?
that a new world is possible
that we can fulfill and achieve
without always dividing?
that our reality
is one that we should be creating?
‘cause all shit’s one son,
so enjoy and have fun
for these are the last days of the empire,
for these are the last days of the empire,
for these are the last days of the empire,
for these are the last days of the empire,
for these are the last days of the empire,
for these are the last days of the empire.

04.09.14.

politicking; people tricking.

Frausto 13 Comments

politicking; people tricking.

you want so bad
to be so middle class,
and then what?
then what?
you’ll want so bad
to hold onto your wealth,
but then what?
then what?
you’ve been got;
now you and your descendents are trapped
forever
in this rat race,
now what?

and then what
do you say to the children
as they watch their youth
massacred and taken away?
‘cause some rich folks feign
interest in poor children’s education;
when their investment’s just
        a tax write off,
so now what?
now what?
how do we respond
to the type of nation
that we have become.

we are not free.
we’re all slaves
in the games
that rich folks play
while politicking,
while people tricking,
while playing at kings,
while playing like kings

and dukes and bishops,
and we’re all just some serfs.
imagine the nerve.
imagine the nerve
that some folks got
to try to pull off the greatest hoax
that their positions of power
hold any legitimacy.
and you still want to be so middle class?
i guess you’re imagining
a better position
under your current state of slavery.
and i know exactly what it is you’re thinking,
“nobody owns me.”
but we can answer that
        question quite simply
by looking at who it is you’re
wearing.
this is no democracy.
this is corporations acting
        as philanthropists while
        dictating what our reality
        should be.
‘cause this has long ceased to be
        the american dream.

we are not free.
we’re all slaves
in the games
that rich folks play
while politicking,
while people tricking,
while playing at kings,
while playing like kings,

and where i’m from
        the kings are gang members,
so i guess, congress must be filled
        with gangsters.

03.06.14.

hearts collapsing.

Frausto 19 Comments

hearts collapsing.

reach for your gods.
reach for your guns.
reach for your drugs.
well instead,
reach for your daughters,
your sons;
teach them to be stars-
brighter than the sun.

like empires crumbling
or stars colliding,
fall prey to the state,
but i’m not abiding.
and what is it really
the powers that be
are providing?
and if we’re all so free,
why are we constantly
deciding to allow for
power to reside,
be controlled
by a few?
i’m asking you. i’m asking you.
oh say, can you see?
that nothing is true?
in a world
where everyone lies
to themselves and each other.

and our feelings are worn
on our sleeves
when words are bonds to believe,
but these men in suits with guns,
they tend to deceive.
and well this is our one life to live-
YOLO.
beyond what our two eyes perceive,
the universe is constantly
transmitting messages for us to receive.
come on feet work with me.
travel beyond, let’s get moving,
start creating.
a new world
is possible.
the war is over,
if you… if you… if you
want it to.

we’re all just hearts- hearts collapsing.
we’re all just hearts- hearts collapsing.
we’re all just hearts- hearts collapsing.
we’re all just hearts- hearts collapsing.

contemptuous
and oblivious
to basic facts
and tenements
held true by the state
because
they lie…

surrounded by poverty,
i’m not supposed to say a thing,
just accept everything
without questioning anything,
just thank god almighty
that at least it ain’t me.

i’m surrounded by poverty,
and if i don’t like it,
i’ve been told before
that i should just leave.

i’m surrounded by poverty,
someone else’s property;
victims of sadistic puppetry,
draconian policy.
how you claim to be free,
delude yourself
you still live in a democracy.

i’m surrounded by poverty.
i’m surrounded by poverty.

we’re all just hearts- hearts collapsing.
we’re all just hearts- hearts collapsing.
we’re all just hearts- hearts collapsing.
we’re all just hearts- hearts collapsing.

01.24 – 02.12.14.

¿quien éramos?

Frausto 8 Comments

¿quien éramos?

ya, ya, ya paso,
y éramos, éramos…
¿éramos quien?
¿éramos quien?
¿quien éramos?

quiero sentirme
dueño de mi destino.
quiero sentirme
libre pa’ poder soñar,
pa’ poder escribir,
dibujar, y escapar.

yo quiero crear el mapa
por cual voy a viajar.
quiero que mi camino
se presente al caminar,
y que todas las estrellas
me iluminen al andar.

quiero ser mas que esclavo-
simple obrero o trabajador,
y no es por miedo al trabajo,
si no el miedo a perder.
¿quién soy yo? ¿quién soy yo?
soy un niño que perdió sus alas,
y ya no voló, y ya no voló.

ya, ya, ya paso,
y éramos, éramos…
¿éramos quien?
¿éramos quien?
¿quien éramos?

vámonos por allí
para ver lo que hay,
y que nos encontramos.
¿qué nos encontramos?
porque toda la vida
teníamos pensado
pasárnosla de vagos
por allá en puerto escondido
con unos italianos que nos encontramos,
tomándonos unos mojitos,
y hablando de filosofía
o política izquierdista.

quiero sentirme
dueño de mi destino.
quiero sentirme
libre pa’ poder soñar,
pa’ poder escribir,
pintar, hacer música,
bailar y dibujar,
pensar y diseñar
un nuevo mundo
y escapar, y escapar,
y escapar, y escapar.

ya, ya paso,
y éramos, éramos…
¿éramos quien?
¿éramos quien?
¿quien éramos?

09.27.13.

English Translation
(06.30.2015)

who were we?

there, there, there it passed,
and we were, we were…
we were who?
we were who?
who were we?

i want to feel
master of my fate.
i want to feel
free to dream,
be able to write,
draw, and escape.

i want to create the map
by which i will travel.
i want my path
to arise while walking,
and that all stars
illuminate my wandering.

i want to be more than slave-
simply a worker or laborer,
and it’s not from fear of work,
but the fear of losing.
who i am? who i am?
i’m a boy who lost his wings,
and no longer flew, and no longer flew.

there, there, there it passed,
and we were, we were…
we were who?
we were who?
who were we?

let’s go by there
to see what’s there,
and what we can find.
what do we find?
because our whole life
we’d planned
to live as vagabonds
over there in puerto escondido
with some italians we’d found,
drinking a few mojitos,
and talking about philosophy
or leftist politics.

i want to feel
master of my fate.
i want to feel
free to dream,
be able to write,
paint, make music,
dance and draw,
think and design
a new world
and escape, and escape,
and escape, and escape.

there, there, there it passed,
and we were, we were…
we were who?
we were who?
who were we?

don’t want to be a rapper.

Frausto 18 Comments

don’t wanna be a rapper.

i’m a strange parable;
alien, descendent of allegory.
illegal contraband, inside my mother’s womb
when my parents crossed across
for me to go over these mental borders and hurdles.

“always running” past “the house on mango st.”
we are that “rose that grew from concrete.”
“holler if you hear me”-
“the pedagogy of the oppressed”;
“anarchist cookbook”;
and about a million and one manifestos and “fictions.”
“the teachings of don juan”;
and “thus spoke zarathustra”-
“the nausea of my metamorphosis.”
i am “the stranger.” i am “the stranger.”
“savage inequalities,” “savage detectives”-
“los de abajo,” and this is just
“life and death on the south side of chicago,”
and this is just
“life and death on the south side of chicago.”

yo, i don’t want to be a rapper like the ones on TV.
i want to be more like dickinson, well like emily,
have you go get my poetry from the library,
have you go get my poetry from the library.
‘cause i try so hard to just be ,
but i must admit it starts feeling so lonely.
‘cause i try so hard to just be ,
but i must admit it starts feeling so lonely.

read a book;
fuck a hook,
and be introspective.
i want to live
in a world
where people aren’t afraid to think.
fuck following a leader or the state.
this president has left us disappointed,
and most the populous- alienated and disenfranchised.
the manipulation of the working class poor
by segregating them,
imprisoning them
until finally silencing them,
and making them feel like aliens
on this planet. in this country,
there is no education,
simply indoctrination,
so pledge allegiance every morning,
and say your prayers in the evening;
and do it for god and country,
and not for liberty,
and not for democracy,
and especially not for the people
‘cause that would be so communist.
but i resist;
raise a fist,
and keep on fighting anyway.
‘cause i resist;
raise a fist,
and keep on fighting everyday.
‘cause i resist
raise a fist,
and keep on fighting anyway.
so i resist;
raise a fist,
and keep on fighting everyday.

06.19.13.

dada h!p5t3r ab5urd!5t 50ng v.2.0

Frausto 9 Comments

in the pit.

dada h!p5t3r ab5urd!5t 50ng v.2.0.

who’s really hardcore?
what the heck’s hardcore?
man, i’m just a nerd.
i’m just a nerd,
and hardcore is for the birds
‘cause dada is so absurd
just like the dodo bird,
or so goes the herd or so i’ve heard,
but i’ve never had the pleasure.

and dada will take you
wherever you dream,
and dada will give you
whatever you need.

crawl to me with your little wings.
all of the magic that you bring;
all of this joy, which is so amazing,
takes over my everything.
i love being your dada,
and dada is so absurd,
and dada is such a nerd,
and there is so much that i’d like
for you to learn to share with you
about who i really am,
and how sometimes I felt like an alien,
so i called myself po’E.T.
‘cause i might never make
any money from my poetry,
which is completely ok with me.
i don’t mind remaining
an anonymous anomaly.

and dada will take you
wherever you dream,
and dada will give you
whatever you need.

you help me remember why the world once
        seemed so magical;
why i used to be excited by it all
before the loss of innocence and the fall
from childhood into accountable adults,
and you still have so much time to explore
        the world;
to explore your thoughts and your inner void,
and forgive me if i set expectations and limitations
upon your imagination.
forgive me if i set limits to your imagination.
i want your little wings to help you fly;
        take you away to all of the places
        your heart desires.
i know you came to set the world on fire.

and dada will take you
wherever you dream,
and dada will give you
whatever you need.

y tu eres movimiento y te tienes que mover.
y tu eres movimiento y te tienes que mover.
y tu eres movimiento y te tienes que mover.

05.29.13.

nada + nada pues 0.

Frausto 6 Comments

nada + nada pues 0.

no somos nada.
lo vemos todo.
todo lo vemos,
y no hacemos nada.

no hacemos nada
por tanto miedo.
por tanto miedo
ya no hacemos nada.

y aquí nos quedamos,
después de tantos años,
en el mismo lugar
en cual empezamos,
pero aun peor porque ya estamos
mucho mas viejos que cuando empezamos.

y yo solo quiero ser alguien que pueda ser,
no tenga que esconder,
o fingir y tener que mentir
pa’ no ser juzgado por el otro.
porque además yo nunca jamás
pedí ser calificado por los demás.

yo solo quiero ser alguien que pueda ser,
yo solo quiero ser alguien que pueda ser,

ser mi mismo.

no somos nada.
lo vemos todo.
todo lo vemos,
y no hacemos nada.

no hacemos nada
por tanto miedo.
por tanto miedo
ya no hacemos nada.

no quiero mucho:
familia, amigos, y vivir tranquilo.
no quiero mucho;
un poco de espacio para descansar después
        de tanto trabajo.
no quiero mucho;
no quiero perder mi familia, amigos, y vida
        tranquila por tanto trabajo.
yo quiero al mar. quiero escuchar como
        canto yo;
quiero a la luna y quiero al sol;
quiero a las cosas que no entiendo yo.
quiero a lo raro,
a lo extraño; a los que nunca
cabrán en un solo lugar;
a lo que no se puede describir
        o explicar
porque se tiene que vivir.
porque se tiene que vivir
para entender y sentir.
para entender y sentir,
para entender y sentir.

no somos nada.
lo vemos todo.
todo lo vemos,
y no hacemos nada.

no hacemos nada
por tanto miedo.
por tanto miedo
ya no hacemos nada.

05.22.13.