Cuarteles de Invierno
Andrés Calamaro
Winter Barracks
I got musical plans
For the winter barracks
And I start missing myself
The little big things to the good neighbors
To look for my food, to look for my routine
What I'm going to find in Argentina, I don't know
I suspect with my chest a tear doesn't come out
I miss my roof, but it doesn't show
Because the procession goes inside
I gather strength and I go to meet my destiny
I return to the cold hell in the winter barracks
I carry a harvest of songs in the lines
When the procession goes inside
I puff my chest and I go to meet my destiny
I return to the cold hell in the winter barracks
I carry a harvest of songs in the lines
I return to the cold hell in the winter barracks
I carry a harvest of songs in the lines
I start missing some good friends
And also the little big things
