It happened that I decided to kill myself
because there was nothing from where to hold on
Is not that I'm a man with the blues,
but not even Superman on drugs could save me.
One thing I was really sure of:
I wouldn't be going to heaven even if they paid me.
Hell for me was wonderful,
or reencarnating in a Cordon Bleu or in Sanchez Padilla.1
So yes, I was going to ask
'cause I wasn't pretending to go to heaven,
and let's see with who I had to talk
that I had influences in Uruguay,
so no, no, please
not to heaven.
I've always imagined heaven
like when a cartoon dies,
like some horrible Michelangelo painting,
or like the paradise Dante told.
But who convinced me that heaven was rubbish,
thought I had some little hate towards her,
were the words of Grandma Popa
when she appeared to me while playing cards.
And said "look darling
here at heaven everything is dreadful,
because there's no pool neither peanuts
neither a bar to drink anisette"
so no, no, please
not to heaven.
By chance I found out that eternity
lasts so much time, and sometimes more
and I can't stand that everything goes on
sitting in a cloud like an asshole.
Playing wrongly the harp and out of tune
surrounded by little angels always peeing,
pulling out spiderwebs from my genitals
because there all the Uruguayans are virgins.
I'd rather be in hell
even if I have to endure
Rivera2, Oribe3, Garzon4
and the Peñarol 5supporters
so no, no, please
not to heaven.
1. Uruguayan sports journalist2. Fructuoso Rivera, Uruguayan president3. Manuel Oribe, Uruguayan president4. Eugenio Garzon, Uruguayan militar5. Uruguayan football club