From my friends and my past,
I didn't keep anything but a song,
some photos from high school...
days of naivety.
I don't know why or at what time
I decided to put on sale my body and heart.
My soul is drowning in so many beds,
in the corners of each heart.
It feeds itself with a dropper,
serum of erections and sweat.
But, how to know
that I can still love myself?
Bandits treat women like bitches,
that sell their charm like me,
while others exchange theirs souls
for diamonds and fur.
I don't know why or at what time
I decided to put on sale my body and heart.
Fuck the first guy who chose me,
fuck the woman that gave birth to me,
fuck money and its influence,
and all these moments of loneliness.
But, how to know
that I can still love myself?
But, how to know
that I can still love myself?