El Gran Varón
En la sala de un hospital
A las 9: 43 nació Simón
Es el verano del '63
El orgullo de Don Andrés
Por ser varón
Fue criado como los demás
Con mano dura con serenidad
Nunca opinó
Cuando crezcas vas a estudiar, la misma vaina que tu papá
Óyelo bien, tendrás que ser un gran varón
Al extranjero se fue Simón
Lejos de casa se le olvidó aquel sermón
Cambió la forma de caminar, usaba falda, lápiz labial
Y un carterón
Cuenta la gente que un día el papa fue a visitarlo
Sin avisar, vaya que error
Y una mujer le habla al pasar
Le dijo: Hola, ¿qué tal, papá?
¿Cómo te va?
No me conoces, yo soy Simón
Simón tu hijo, el gran varón
No se puede corregir a la naturaleza
Palo que nace dobla'o, jamás su tronco endereza
No se puede corregir a la naturaleza
Palo que nace dobla'o, jamás su tronco endereza
No se puede corregir a la naturaleza
Palo que nace dobla'o, jamás su tronco endereza
Se dejó llevar, por lo que dice la gente
Su padre jamás le hablo
Lo abandono para siempre
No se puede corregir a la naturaleza
Palo que nace dobla'o, jamás su tronco endereza
Y no te quejes Andrés
No te quejes por nada
Si del cielo te cae limones aprende hacer limonada
Andrés
Simón
Andrés
Simón
No se puede corregir a la naturaleza
Palo que nace dobla'o, jamás su tronco endereza
Y mientras pasan los años
El viejo cediendo un poco
Simón ya ni le escribía
Andrés estaba furioso
No se puede corregir a la naturaleza
Palo que nace dobla'o, jamás su tronco endereza
Por fin hubo noticias
De donde su hijo estaba
Andrés nunca olvido el día
De esa triste llamada
Ay lelelele, ay lelele, ay leleleee
Ay lelele, ay lelele, ay leleleeee
En la sala de un Hospital
De una extraña enfermedad
Murió Simón
Es el verano del 83
Al enfermo de la cama 10
Nadie lloró
Simón, Simón
Simón
No se puede corregir a la naturaleza
Palo que nace dobla'o, jamás su tronco endereza
Hay que tener compasión
Basta de moraleja
Y el que este libre de pecado, el que tire la primera piedra
No se puede corregir a la naturaleza
Palo que nace dobla'o, jamás su tronco endereza
El que nunca perdona
Tiene el destino cierto
De vivir amargos recuerdos en su propio infierno
Ay lelele, ay lelele
The Great Man
In a hospital room
At 9:43 Simon was born
It's the summer of '63
Don Andrés's pride
For being a man
He was raised like the others
With a firm hand and serenity
Never gave an opinion
When you grow up you will study, the same thing as your dad
Listen carefully, you will have to be a great man
Simon went abroad
Far from home he forgot that sermon
She changed the way she walked, she wore a skirt, lipstick
And a big cardboard box
People say that one day the Pope came to visit him
Without warning, what a mistake
And a woman speaks to him as he passes by
He said to him: Hello, how are you, dad?
How's it going?
You don't know me, I'm Simon
Simon your son, the great man
You can't correct nature
A tree that is born bent, never straightens its trunk
You can't correct nature
A tree that is born bent, never straightens its trunk
You can't correct nature
A tree that is born bent, never straightens its trunk
He got carried away by what people say
His father never spoke to him
I abandon it forever
You can't correct nature
A tree that is born bent, never straightens its trunk
And don't complain, Andrés
Don't complain about anything
If lemons fall from the sky, learn to make lemonade
Andrew
Simon
Andrew
Simon
You can't correct nature
A tree that is born bent, never straightens its trunk
And as the years go by
The old man giving in a little
Simon didn't even write to him anymore
Andrew was furious
You can't correct nature
A tree that is born bent, never straightens its trunk
Finally there was news
Where your son was
Andrés never forgot the day
From that sad call
Oh lelelele, oh lelele, oh leleleee
Oh lelele, oh lelele, oh leleleeee
In a hospital room
From a strange disease
Simon died
It's the summer of '83
To the sick man in bed 10
Nobody cried
Simon, Simon
Simon
You can't correct nature
A tree that is born bent, never straightens its trunk
You have to have compassion
Enough of the moral
And he who is without sin, let him cast the first stone
You can't correct nature
A tree that is born bent, never straightens its trunk
He who never forgives
Has a certain destiny
Of living bitter memories in his own hell
Oh lelele, oh lelele