Pongamos Que Hablo de Joaquín (part. Luis Eduardo Aute)

Degenerate and womanizer
With a certain air of a fakir
He drags his skeleton
Through the bowels of Madrid
Although Andalusian from the end of the century
Universal, I mean
I don't know what he has of a rabbi
When I look at him from the side
Friend of lost causes
Since that May in Paris
He has no more philosophy
Than living to the fullest until death
Half prophet, half thug
The lumpen is his pedigree
A red wine and a good chick
Are enough for him to resist
Leaning left in his ideas
Where Bakunin tilts
He says down with the flags
And up with the April rain
The loser is his universe
Although he pretends to be happy
And there are still those who say he's sane
Let's say I'm talking about Joaquín