Hold, holding on
to something that just feels wrong
cold, lonely songs
singing words that don't belong

I'm living with the technicolor blues
they're hanging around like
the gum stuck to my shoes

tengo tus zapatos
ahora ciento que no vas a llorar
pinche vato
sin mi, por ti, pa mi
hora mira wey
tira tu espejo tus amigos ya no van a voltear
sin mi, pa mi, por ti
smoke in my eyes
(cierra tus ojitos )
from some stale cigarette nearby
(ya no fumas)
one more hit, keep it in
(dame un toquecito)
soon I'll be heading out again