When I look back to see what I have become

I have to admit that I’m made of little pieces

Every wound and every single stain of pain

Every function of my brain’s built without instructions

There’s just distortion

And some confuse emotions

I’m a function of misdeed?

But I’m standing and alive

That’s why I’m sad

Why I’m mad

Why I’m always on the run

Without faith

Without pain

With that sickness on my chest

(Un manual sin instrucciones)

I am like a broken vase with golden bonds

Cause now I’m wise and stronger

Look what my job has made of me:

All this money... All this greed...

That’s why I’m sad

Why I’m mad

Why I’m always on the run

Without faith

Without pain

With that sickness on my chest

(Un manual sin instrucciones)

Look what my job has made of me...

But I’m standing and alive!

That’s why I’m sad

Why I’m mad

Why I’m always on the run

Without faith

Without pain

With that sickness on my chest