From a few months ago till nowadays
My world has stopped turning around
I find myself a little bit baffled, pensive
It may be that I'm not the same
It turns out that now everybody is giving their opinion
About how I do my hair or how I will get dressed
It turns out that I changed a thousand thoughts
We never stop learning from them
I'm cool, a copla lover, sensitive
Hippie, posh, snob
A clever girl, don't lose sight of me
Someone please find the formula
Free, steady and a fighter
I'm gradually traditional
Someone's goddaughter, the other one's daughther, my grandma's granddaughter
Sweet ripped voice, that caress the soul
We are pure contradiction and a lot of what the others will say
I'm all I was, what I have
I'm just what just today, today I just am
Probably a mix of a thousand things
And a touch of originality
Probably a fashion fad
But ready to go on
Macabre is the journalist doubt
There's quite few of music related questions
Macabre is the country where I live
I'll have to get used to be quiet
Raised and educated by the catholic church
Modern, tolerant, commercial station fodder
Lyrics without dept, I sing pop melodies
I a little bit funny, with a few extra kilos
Committed with the social cause
While I 'holster' my iPhone of "Custo"
And I frequently wear "Desigual" clothing
We are pure contradiction and a lot of what the others will say
I'm all I was, what I have
I'm just what just today, today I just am...
We are pure contradiction and a lot of what the others will say
I'm all I was, what I have
I'm just what just today, today I just am...