Apiádate de Él, Señor

They walk on the pavement,
millions of people now;
a new day has begun,
today they won't recognize you either.

You'll be there again,
in Suipacha and the pedestrian street;
your feet, even in shoes,
will still crave more warmth.

"Papers!" you'll shout, "Papers!"

There are many who don’t even look at you,
there are others who say, "no, no";
only a few will say:
"Have mercy on him, Lord."

"Papers!" you'll shout, "Papers!"