Rehenes
Vos estabas, cuando estaba todo bien.
Y no estabas, cuando el rollo marginal pinchó.
En el gueto eras un príncipe inglés.
De currante no vas a perder tu "savoir faire" jamás.
Vos estabas, esperando al marroquí
en Barajas, el colmo del síndrome Estocolmo.
Como aquella temporada cultural,
con rehenes, atados al piano rojo.
Vayamos pintados con sangre de los dos.
Siempre, Siempre (bis)
Nos esperan con balas de plata dulce,
fundidas de arreglos dentales nuestros.
Un hombre es un campo de batalla,
si no se calla es una revolución de claveles.
Vayamos pintados con sangre de los dos.
Siempre,Siempre (bis)
Entonces era la libertad,
a veces mataría por cinco minutos más.
Entonces era la libertad,
ahora me toca huir a mí, nene.
Vayamos pintados con sangre de los dos.
Siempre,Siempre.
Siempre.
Hostages
You were there when everything was fine.
And you weren't there when the street scene went wrong.
In the hood, you were an English prince.
You'll never lose your 'savoir faire' as a hard worker.
You were there, waiting for the Moroccan
at Barajas, the height of Stockholm syndrome.
Like that cultural season,
with hostages tied to the red piano.
Let's go painted with the blood of both.
Always, always (repeat)
They await us with bullets of sweet silver,
melted from our dental arrangements.
A man is a battlefield,
if he doesn't shut up, it's a revolution of carnations.
Let's go painted with the blood of both.
Always, always (repeat)
Back then it was freedom,
sometimes I would kill for five more minutes.
Back then it was freedom,
now it's my turn to run, baby.
Let's go painted with the blood of both.
Always, always.
Always.