Canchero
Para el record de mi vida sos una fácil carrera
que yo me animo a ganarte sin emoción ni final.
Te lo bato pa' que entiendas en esta jerga burrera
que vos sos una "potranca" para una "penca cuadrera"
y yo -¡che, vieja!- ya he sido relojiao pa'l Nacional...
Vos sabés que de purrete tuve pinta de ligero.
¡Era audaz, tenía clase, era guapo y seguidor!
Por la sangre de mi viejo salí bastante barrero
y en esa biaba de barrio figuré siempre primero
ganando muchos finales a fuerza de corazón.
El cariño de una mina que me llevaba doblao
en malicia y experiencia me sacó de perdedor.
Pero cuando estuve en peso y a la monta acostumbrado,
¡que te bata la percanta el juego que se le dio!
Ya, después, en la carpeta, empecé a probar fortuna
y muchas veces la suerte me fue amistosa y cordial...
Otras veces salí seco a chamuyar con la luna,
por las calles solitarias del sensiblero arrabal...
Me hice de aguante en la timba y corrido en la milonga,
desconfiao en la carpeta, lo mismo que en el amor...
Yo he visto venirse al suelo sin que nadie lo disponga
cien castillos de ilusiones, por una causa mistonga
y he visto llorar a guapos por mujeres como vos.
Ya ves, que por ese lado vas muerta con tu espamento...
Yo no quiero amor de besos, yo quiero amor de amistad.
Nada de palabras dulces, nada de mimos ni cuentos:
yo quiero una compañera pa'batirle lo que siento
y una mujer que aconseje con criterio y con bondad.
Tough Guy
For the record of my life, you're an easy race
that I dare to win without emotion or end.
I'll explain it to you in this horse racing jargon
that you're a 'filly' for a 'cheap race'
and I - hey, old lady! - have already been clocked for the National...
You know that as a kid I looked like a fast one.
I was bold, had class, was handsome and a follower!
From my old man's blood, I turned out quite rough
and in that neighborhood brawl I always stood out first
winning many finals with sheer heart.
The affection of a girl who had me wrapped around her finger
in cunning and experience took me out of loser status.
But when I was used to the weight and the ride,
let the woman deal with the game that was played on her!
Later, in the gambling den, I started testing my luck
and many times luck was friendly and cordial to me...
Other times I ended up dry, chatting with the moon,
on the lonely streets of the sentimental suburb...
I toughened up in the gambling den and became a regular at the dance hall,
distrustful in the gambling den, just like in love...
I've seen castles of illusions come crashing down
without anyone planning it,
and I've seen tough guys cry over women like you.
You see, you're dead on that front with your scare tactics...
I don't want love with kisses, I want love with friendship.
No sweet words, no cuddles or stories:
I want a partner to share what I feel
and a woman to advise with judgment and kindness.