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Leaving my parents' house alone with my face and courage
For me it was a big deal, I didn't want to
Leave it there in the bourgeois living room my bourgeois piano
And a radio record player, sanctuary of my iê iê iês
I was terrified of one day having to stop dreaming
P 'to be able to pay the rent and to support myself
And lose perks that the old people gave me in my hands
So that my ideas can be shredded without discussion £o
All it took was a job to impose itself on me socially
And a sufficient bank account
For me to then have freedom and general respect
That dialogue is the one that has a price and is sold?
I want to know if my mother understands me
After I buy my ideal son's diploma
I was designed by them to be the greatest
A Nobel Prize winner, a philosopher, an ambassador
The brilliant and precocious boy they saw in me
br/>They never admitted to having such ideas of their own
And for many years I have suffered trying to explain
That my chosen path they have to accept
They could have given me a boost, since I was unable
To go out into the world with one hand in front, the other behind
All it took was a job to impose myself socially