Qué Vachaché

Get out of here, don't ever come back
You've really pissed me off
I can't stand being without food anymore
Or hearing you talk so much nonsense
Don't you realize you're a con artist?
Do you think you're going to fix the world?
If not even God can save what's lost here
What do you want? Do me a favor!

What's needed is to make a lot of money
Sell your soul, gamble your heart
Throw away the little decency you have left
Money, lots of money
I want to live
That way you can eat every day
Have friends, a house, a name
And whatever you want
True love drowned in soup
The belly rules and money is God

But don't you see, you flag-waving fool
That the one with the most money is right?
That honesty is sold for cash
And morality is given away for coins
That there's no truth that can resist
In the face of a couple of bucks, national currency
You end up, playing the moralist
A disguised one without a carnival

Jump in the river, stop messing with your conscience!
You're a drag, not even funny
Give me stew, keep your decency
Money, lots of money... I want to live!
What's my fault if you've taken life seriously?
You act like a fool, you eat air and have no mattress
What a load of crap! If today reason died!
Jesus is worth the same as a thief