Blues del estibador

In the port of Buenos Aires,
There the work is tough under the sun,
Every day I go to the dock,
The same sweat bathes me.
And as I tie up at the docks
The dockworker blues plays.

Every time a ship sets sail
The cranes no longer move,
Three tugboats pull a ship
And take it away from the dock.

Ask him how much pain,
On the dockworker's back.

Worker blues, worker blues,
Worker blues, baby, real blues,
I got the blues, I got the blues,
Dockworker blues.
And as I tie up at the docks
The dockworker blues plays.

One, two, three bags I carried, yes, I carried,
Four, five, six bags I carried, yes, I carried,
And when I lose count, I no longer have the strength
Even to spend the ten bucks I have left.

Worker blues, worker blues,
Worker blues, baby, real blues,
I got the blues, I got the blues,
Dockworker blues.
And as I tie up at the docks
The dockworker blues plays.

And as I tie up at the docks
The dockworker blues plays.