Murguita del sur

Four drunks take the rocker away,
Once again the funeral has failed,
In the neighborhood they lick their banners,
Stirring up the model to assemble.
Dance, dance, the word of mouth is about weed
But this time, the dead man returned
And he felt strange in that orchestra
That bored of playing in G major.

Why, that stick that kneads you,
That suffocates you, that crushes you,
You use it to kill?
Then, when there is nothing left,
No more eyes, no more hands,
You want to caress it...
There is nothing, you love it
There is nothing, nothing is left...

Offices preparing predators
On the radios inciting to the festival,
That remembers for the first time a man
That people today want more...
With time it went to the top
Of a wave that doesn't stop growing
Today his face is on all the shirts
He's a dead man who doesn't stop being born...

Which one?, kamikazes of other souls
Bored in their homes
They don't even dare to sing...
Then,
They hallucinate that a hero from other
Lands is planning and coming to rescue...
It's that, if it's not there
The face, you build it,
A mask with your desires...
Amen!

Four drunks take the rocker away,
They take him forever
He deforms and soon returns
Four drunks take him...
Four drunks take him, they take him forever
Four drunks take him, they take him
Four drunks take him forever
They take him four drunks,
Four drunks take him
They take him forever
They take him forever
Four drunks take him
They take him forever
He deforms and soon returns