Bla Bla Bla (Mythomania)

You say you are just like me,
that you commute the exact same way.
Yet I board the city bus,
while you arrive in a helicopter.

Every day on my way to work, taking the Line 74 bus meant dropping off one block from Casa Rosada and half a block from the helipad. While riding a bus where I sometimes had to stand, where rocks thrown from slums shattered windows, and where weekend nights were filled with social chaos (drugs, theft, etc.)... amidst all that, I repeatedly witnessed then-President Cristina F. arriving in her presidential helicopter.

You claim that with 6 pesos
you have no trouble eating,
while using 100-peso bills
to wipe your own ass.

According to announcements published by INDEC through the media, one could eat and live on 6 pesos a day. Back when 1 USD equaled 5 pesos, INDEC was claiming a person could live on 1.2 USD (around 1 Euro) per day. Meanwhile, politicians were receiving high salaries around 20,000 pesos, and Clarín reported that the president herself earned 30,991 pesos as of March 2012. It's a very simple message.

You claim you will take action,
that everything will change.
Over national broadcast airwaves,
you just talk, talk, and talk endlessly.

Promising improved security and rail interventions, yet within the same year, multiple train crashes and derailments occurred on the same line, with blame shifted onto the drivers. They promise everything will change, but their only action is hijacking national broadcast airwaves to praise themselves. This practice was heavily criticized for its absurd frequency.

Bla bla bla... / You are the king of mythomaniacs

This chorus melody was dreamed during a few seconds of exhaustion at the reception desk. The lyrics were triggered by what I told my coworker—"...it's all bla bla bla..."—which convinced me to write it. Furthermore, a former coworker was considered a severe mythomaniac. He truly was, and his stories constantly contradicted themselves.

Acting like a god in bed,
claiming you last 8 hours straight,
bragging that your size
rivals that of an orangutan.

This was a lie I faced my whole life: people claiming they last hours in bed or measure 25 centimeters. Women claiming their current boyfriend is the best while belittling their ex as a premature ejaculator—though years prior, that ex was supposedly their best. A female coworker bragged about a great night with a man who lasted 5 hours, and Kevin claimed he lasted over 2 hours. I told him: "Lasting that long must be boring. I'd start watching a movie halfway through. Staring at a wall for 2 hours sounds miserable."

The bizarre part is that scientific studies state the average male duration is between 5 and 15 minutes. Society itself is mythomaniac, and I wanted to make that central to the song. People complain: "Oh, the government lies to us, hurts us, spits on us..."—yet you mess with me with your own lies. For a long time, such claims made me question my own sexuality.

You call me a preacher,
mocking me deep inside.
Perhaps what you are truly missing
is a brain.

At work, I was once sent home early under the excuse: "Send him home so he stops talking nonsense." Even now, I get mocked. When Kevin was asked who he'd save if the world ended, he named me, and others mocked that someone was needed to preach across the seven seas. Their sarcastic intent was obvious; most make a laughingstock out of me. Many seek my advice, but otherwise treat me as a madman or a joke. As Jesus said in Luke 13:34-35 ("O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it...").

You call yourself the new messiah,
claiming to be mama's favorite.
Boasting a modest shanty house
in humble Miami.

Matthew 24:11 states: "...and many false prophets will arise and lead many astray..." While popes adorn themselves in gold despite Jesus commanding: "Take nothing for the journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money..." (Luke 9:3).

The trumpets resound once more,
and you declare that the end is near.
Leading the horsemen of "employment plans,"
here you come.

This addresses false prophets announcing the end of the world, driving people to suicide or selling all belongings to cults. Here, I twisted the context toward politics. In Argentina, the Plan Trabajar welfare system is used by politicians as a shield—keeping people in poverty while fostering dependency, laziness, and an uneducated society prone to crime and substance abuse.

I gathered political flyers during election season. Campaign materials read: "Choosing to prioritize the most vulnerable through active policies like Asignación Universal and Procrear..." or "Equalizing rights for all through child allowances..."

You preach democracy,
telling me I hold the right to choose.
Yet for refusing to cast a vote,
I get thrown in prison this year.

Voting is mandatory in Argentina. While prison was once a risk, heavy fines were being introduced. I wanted to expose how "democratic" and "free" our country truly is.

You say "It's either her or you,"
saying "It's not you, it's me."
Piling on so many lies
that you no longer even know who you are.

"It's either her or you" comes from campaign flyers claiming: "Tired of the former president? Vote for us, it's the only choice." It exploits public frustration. "It's not you, it's me" is the classic breakup line that offers no real resolution. Politicians are human, just as corruptible, deceitful, and hurtful as anyone in everyday life. The final line draws inspiration from that mythomaniac former coworker.

Pretending to be a good guy,
acting as my right hand,
when in the end, you were nothing more
than a boil on my left buttock.

Originally intended for Asthma Mental, I realized it didn't fit that track's tone, so I released it here. It is deeply personal, directed at Lucas, a longtime close friend who betrayed me in an inexplicable, unrepairable manner, responding only with hostility when I sought understanding.

While designed as a universal expression, it stems from an intensely personal experience, placed intentionally at the end of the song.

In a way, it draws inspiration from Lennon's "Gimme Some Truth."