Torito es Muerto

If God doesn't exist, how is it possible
All this extra life you have?
The last money was for the iron,
for the bullets, you didn't have enough.

Oh! But what a sweet rascal you are.
But what a sweet uncle you are.
Fear makes the coward escape..
And if you wake up, you laugh.

There are many oxen and few bulls,
and there you go playing,
drunk samurai.
There's a bonfire for the bad ones,
worse things can happen.

Oh! But what a sweet rascal you are.
What a sweet bandit you are.
They're going to trick you, monsieur.
Your fame will cleanse you.

I'm already biting into that toast,
Out of jealousy, you're going to kill!
Paradise of the forgotten ones,
who blow some more sin.

Oh, but what a sweet uncle you are,
what a lovely ruffian, how sweet you are.
You negotiated with your lover, and you'll see
that never ends well.

They say he knows, and he doesn't always know,
what's good for him, what's good for him
And he rides on his poison
crazy fashion and the coconut on his armchair.

You sharpened your knife too much.
So your sheath is going to tear,
fortune is already moving away from you,
and you join the harp club.

When money makes it dance,
shit runs and so does betrayal.
You avenged Philco, and Panasonic
and in a few days, the TV will forget.