Preparate Pa'l Domingo
Preparate pa'l domingo si querés cambiar tu yeta
Tengo una rumbiada papa que pagara gran sport
Me asegura mi datero que lo corre una muñeca
Y que paga, por lo menos, treinta y siete a ganador
Vos no hagas correr el dato, atenete a mis informes
Deja que opinen contrario La Jornada y La Razón
Con mi dato pa'l domingo podés llamarte conforme
Anda preparando vento; cuanto más vento, mejor
El bacán que con empeño
Me asegura tanta guita
Me ha pedido que reserve
La rumbiada que me da
Vos no hagas correr la bola
Entre gente que palpita
Porque estos datos pulentas
Se brindan por amistad
Deja que los entendidos palpiten sangre y aprontes
De toda la parentela de la raza caballar
Yo me atrevo a asegurarte que ha de ganar al galope
El potrillo Patas Blancas, hijo de Necesidad
No te violentes al vamos porque es larga la tirada
Y al mirar dos patas blancas cruzando el disco final
Acamala tu fortuna con treinta y siete por barba
Después te espero en el Conte, pa' poderla festejar
Los amigos se cotizan
En las buenas y en las malas
A mí me dieron la chaucha
Y la reparto con vos
Con esos cuantos manguillos
Se acabarán nuestras penas
Y entonces si que podemos, viejo
Podemos decir que hay Dios
Get Ready for Sunday
Get ready for Sunday if you want to change your bad luck
I have a hot tip, man, that will pay big time
My informant assures me that a doll is running it
And that it pays, at least, thirty-seven to win
Don't spread the word, stick to my reports
Let La Jornada and La Razón have their say
With my tip for Sunday, you can call yourself satisfied
Start preparing the wind; the more wind, the better
The big shot who with determination
Assures me so much cash
Has asked me to reserve
The hot tip he gives me
Don't spread the word
Among people who are excited
Because these cool tips
Are given out of friendship
Let the experts feel the excitement and get ready
From all the horse racing family
I dare to assure you that the colt
White Hooves, son of Necessity, will win by a mile
Don't get too excited from the get-go because it's a long race
And when you see two white hooves crossing the finish line
Count your fortune with thirty-seven to win
Then I'll meet you at the Conte, to celebrate it
Friends are valued
In good times and bad
They gave me the coin
And I share it with you
With those few bucks
Our troubles will end
And then we can really, man
We can say that there is a God
Escrita por: G. D. Barbieri / J. Rial