Packard
Era una mina bien, era un gran coche
Era un packard placero, era una alhaja
Auto que siempre laboró de noche
Llevando siempre la bandera baja.
Pero un día la droga la hizo suya
Y en vez de cargar nafta, hechó morfina
Y cerrando el escape por la bulla
Se fajaba de bute en cada esquina
Ayer la vi pasar, iba dopada
Y me sentí, yo curda, un santo asís
Al ver que de su pinta abacanada
Pinta que fuera de auto de parada
Solo queda cual resto de chocada
Con los cuatro fierritos del chasís.
Packard
She was a fine chick, she was a great car
She was a pleasure Packard, she was a gem
A car that always worked at night
Always flying the flag low.
But one day the drug took her over
And instead of loading gas, she threw morphine
And closing the exhaust because of the noise
She fought with bute on every corner.
Yesterday I saw her pass by, she was doped
And I felt, drunk, like a saint
Seeing that from her drugged look
A look that used to be from a stop car
Only remains like the rest of a crash
With the four little irons of the chassis.