I Know Nothing

The more you love someone the least you see
The more you want something the least is real.

When I was 4 I really thought
I was that king my mother told,
Then I grew up and I found out
I was poor.
I used to pray, I never failed,
I so deserved the fairy tale,
Then I grew up and I found out
I was going to hell.

I read the bible then I red vogue
Almost achieved perfection, perfection felt so raw.

You always make me know I know nothing
The only thing I know is I know nothing
There are no rules that apply to you
When I am with you I know nothing.

I know nothing, I know nothing
When I am with you I know nothing.
I know nothing, you know nothing
Because you don’t know how it feels to love me.


I can’t explain the way I felt
It’s something new in my chest
Like someone put an extra heart
My chest is jumping hard
I never pray, I always fail,
I don’t want this fairy tale,
The more it comes to the end
The more it feels like hell.

You always make me know I know nothing
The only thing I know is I know nothing
There are no rules that apply to you
When I am with you I know nothing.

I know nothing, I know nothing
When I am with you I know nothing.
I know nothing, you know nothing
Because you don’t know how it feels to love me.


The more you love someone the least you see
The more you want something the least is real.

You always make me know I know nothing
The only thing I know is I know nothing
There are no rules that apply to you
When I am with you I know nothing.

I know nothing, you know nothing
Because you don’t know how it feels to love me.
I know nothing, I know nothing
When I am with you I know nothing.

You always make me know I know nothing

Cuando el pensamiento se encuentra al instinto.

Y entonces, el silencio. El silencio aparece como una parodia de mis filosofias. Es fácil seguirlas cuando las situaciones se prestan. Por ejemplo, llevo un par de meses repitiendole a todo mundo mi discurso sobre la felicidad: Para ser feliz lo único que se necesita es ser feliz. Asi digo yo, así repito yo, asi lo repite el silencio.

Ahora estoy en silencio, ahora no soy feliz y me pregunto que necesito para ser feliz y el silencio responde, repite, se burla.

Y entonces el que se rie soy yo, por que el silencio soy yo, por que este silencio es un accidente, un mal chiste que yo mismo invente... Dejo de reir... No soy feliz.

Es estupido, repito... Es estupido.