Milonga Fina
Te declaraste Milonga Fina
Cuando dejaste el arrabal
El traje mishio de percalina
Y la puntilla del delantal
El moño rojo que te ponías
Tan paradito, tan coquetón
Y aquellos mozos que te traían
Cuando salías a patacón
Ya no lucís tu silueta
Pebeta de arrabal
Ya dejaste la querencia
Pobrecita, por tu mal
Ya no te ronda la mishiadura
Hoy por la calle triunfal pasás
Con un poquito de amargura
Que con tu risa disimulás
Para engrupirte, para olvidarte
De todo aquello que ya pasó
Y aquel mocito, que por llorarte
Un día triste, pobre, murió
Te declaraste Milonga Fina
Cuando anduviste con aquel gil
Que te engrupía con cocaína
Y te llevaba al Armenonville
Donde al compás de un tango canero
Ibas perdiendo la realidad
Y los chamuyos de un milonguero
Te pervirtieron con su maldad
Fine Milonga
You declared yourself Fine Milonga
When you left the suburb
The poor calico suit
And the lace of the apron
The red bow you used to wear
So upright, so coquettish
And those guys who brought you
When you went out in style
You no longer show your silhouette
Suburban girl
You left behind the fondness
Poor thing, to your detriment
No longer do you have the mischievous charm
Today you walk down the triumphant street
With a little bitterness
That you disguise with your laughter
To deceive yourself, to forget
All that has already passed
And that boy, who for crying over you
One sad day, poor thing, died
You declared yourself Fine Milonga
When you walked with that fool
Who deceived you with cocaine
And took you to Armenonville
Where to the beat of a tough tango
You were losing touch with reality
And the sweet talk of a tango dancer
Corrupted you with his wickedness
Escrita por: C. E. Flores / J. Servidio