Leyendas de la Noche

LA Mdb

Cuando Cae la Noche

Me Sueltan los Ángeles

Hard Street Shit

Exótico

Alta Gama (feat. C.R.O)

MUNDO ROTO

QUE VIENE Y QUE VA

4EVER

CREMA

Name Of The Snake

They built the bridges, paved the roads, Raised the children, carried the loads. But now they’re parked in rusted beds, While the system counts its corporate threads.

Retirement’s a word that should mean peace, But it’s become a slow release. We lock them down, we dim their light, And call it care while we steal their right.

But space? Space is the answer we missed, A place where gravity doesn’t twist. Where old bones float, and pain lets go, And dignity returns in zero-G flow.

No stairs, no strain, no aching knees, Just orbital grace and cosmic ease. We build for them, not just the young, And the doctrine speaks in every tongue.

Float them home, don’t let them fade, They earned the stars with every trade. Retirement ain’t death—it’s design, And the future must honor the aging spine.

We treat the old like they’re past tense, But they hold the wisdom, the consequence. They know the cycles, the hidden cost, They remember what the world has lost.

So we build in orbit, not just for thrill, But to give the elders back their will. Not luxury—but rightful place, A sanctuary carved in space.

This ain’t utopia—it’s overdue, A species promise long past due. We build for grace, not just for speed, And meet the elders’ deepest need.

They float, they rest, they teach, they shine, And the doctrine realigns the line. We don’t discard—we elevate, And retirement becomes a cosmic state.

Float them home, don’t let them fade, They earned the stars with every trade. Retirement ain’t death—it’s design, And the future must honor the aging spine.

Float Them Home

Niciodata

Cuervos

CREMA

T&K