Algo Personal (part. Joan Manuel Serrat)
Probablemente en su pueblo se les recordará
Como cachorros de buenas personas
Que hurtaban flores para regalar a su mamá
Y daban de comer a las palomas
Probablemente que todo eso debe ser verdad
Aunque es más turbio cómo y de qué manera
Llegaron esos individuos a ser lo que
Son, ni a quién sirven cuando alzan las banderas
Hombres de paja que usan la colonia y el honor
Para ocultar oscuras intenciones
Tienen doble vida, son sicarios del mal
Entre esos tipos y yo hay algo personal
Tienen mas trucos que los magos verdaderamente
Sin usar varita mágica desaparecen gente
Abracadabra desapareciste si tu pancarta dice algo que los pone tristes
Odian a los humanistas
Los estudiantes de filosofía son todos unos terroristas!
Generalmente no se llevan bien con los pensadores
Son como los toros, no ven todos los colores
Llegaron a salvarnos en estos tiempos trágicos
Juntos con sus promesas llenas de realismo mágico
Y con su lenguaje de mentiras infinitas
Convencen hasta las flores de que no son bonitas
Te confunden aunque tengas claridad mental
Son de los tipos que le venden hielo
A un esquimal
Hacen trampa con los votos en la escuela electoral
Con estos tipos yo también tengo algo personal
Rodeados de protocolo, comitiva y seguridad
Viajan de incógnito en autos blindados
A sembrar calumnias, a mentir con naturalidad
A colgar en las escuelas su retrato
Se gastan más de lo que tienen en coleccionar
Espías, listas negras y arsenales
Resulta bochornoso verles fanfarronear
A ver quién es el que la tiene más grande
Se arman hasta los dientes
En el nombre de la paz
Y juegan con cosas que no tienen repuesto, la culpa es del otro si algo les sale mal
Entre esos tipos y yo hay algo personal
De los colegios militares son devotos
Por que piensan que para defenderse
Hay que matar a otro
Difícil de enjuiciar frente a los tribunales
Mandan a terceros pa no dejar sus huellas digitales
Huyen en helicópteros de la milicia
Y se hacen-los enfermos pá escapar de la justicia
Regalan fútbol, cerveza y un poco de baile también
Pá que te olviden de que no se están portando bien
Se robaron lo sueños de media humanidad
No creen en las pascuas tampoco creen en Navidad
A estos tipos cuando chicos no les dieron cariño
Por eso cuando les disparan se protegen con los niños
Frente a las cámaras para no quedar mal
Se desayunan una ostia el domingo en la catedral
Son como jugos de frutas con sabor artificial
Entre estos tipos y yo hay algo personal
Y como quien en la cosa, nada tiene que perder
Pulsan la alarma y rompen las promesas
Y en nombre de quien no tienen el gusto de conocer
Nos ponen la pistola en la cabeza
Se agarran de los pelos, pero para no ensuciar
Van a cagar a casa de otra gente
Y experimentan nuevos métodos de masacrar
Sofisticados y a la vez convincentes
No conocen ni a su padre cuando pierden el control
Ni recuerdan que en el mundo hay niños
Nos niegan a todos el pan y la sal
Entre esos tipos y yo hay algo personal
Nos niegan a todos el pan y la sal
Entre esos tipos y yo
(Con ellos no me llevo, con estos tipos no concuerdo)
Entre esos tipos y yo
(Por que los locos que olvidan no se llevan con los recuerdos)
Entre esos tipo y yo hay algo personal
Something Personal (feat. Joan Manuel Serrat)
Probably in their town they will be remembered
As good-hearted puppies
Who stole flowers to give to their mom
And fed the pigeons
Probably all that must be true
Although it's murkier how and in what way
Those individuals became what
They are, nor who they serve when they raise the flags
Straw men who use cologne and honor
To hide dark intentions
They lead a double life, they are hitmen of evil
Between those guys and me there's something personal
They have more tricks than real magicians
Without using a magic wand they make people disappear
Abracadabra you disappeared if your banner says something that upsets them
They hate humanists
Philosophy students are all terrorists!
Generally, they don't get along with thinkers
They're like bulls, they don't see all the colors
They came to save us in these tragic times
Together with their promises full of magical realism
And with their language of endless lies
They convince even the flowers that they are not beautiful
They confuse you even if you have mental clarity
They are the kind of people who sell ice
To an Eskimo
They cheat with votes in the electoral school
With these guys I also have something personal
Surrounded by protocol, entourage, and security
They travel incognito in armored cars
To spread slander, to lie naturally
To hang their portrait in schools
They spend more than they have on collecting
Spies, blacklists, and arsenals
It's embarrassing to see them boast
To see who has the biggest one
They arm themselves to the teeth
In the name of peace
And play with things that have no replacement, it's the other's fault if something goes wrong
Between those guys and me there's something personal
They are devoted to military schools
Because they think that to defend themselves
They have to kill another
Difficult to judge before the courts
They send others so as not to leave their fingerprints
They flee in military helicopters
And pretend to be sick to escape justice
They give away soccer, beer, and a little dancing too
So you forget that they are not behaving well
They stole the dreams of half of humanity
They don't believe in Easter, nor do they believe in Christmas
These guys weren't given love when they were kids
That's why when they are shot at, they protect themselves with children
In front of the cameras to not look bad
They have breakfast with a slap on Sunday in the cathedral
They are like fruit juices with artificial flavor
Between these guys and me there's something personal
And like someone who has nothing to lose
They sound the alarm and break promises
And in the name of someone they don't have the pleasure of knowing
They put a gun to our heads
They grab each other by the hair, but to not make a mess
They go to shit at other people's houses
And they experiment with new methods of massacre
Sophisticated and convincing at the same time
They don't even know their father when they lose control
Nor do they remember that there are children in the world
They deny us all bread and salt
Between those guys and me there's something personal
They deny us all bread and salt
Between those guys and me
(I don't get along with them, I don't agree with these guys)
Between those guys and me
(Because the crazy ones who forget don't get along with memories)
Between those guys and me there's something personal