395px

Because of the Hangover

Edmundo Rivero

Por Culpa Del Escolazo

Por culpa del escolazo
Me quedé bien en la via,
Las cosas que mama mía
Me tuve que apechugar!
Ya no podía empilchar,
Andaba misho de fasos,
Y al no gustarme el pechazo
Ni los grupos pa'filar,
Para poder escabiar
Del whisky me fui al quebracho.

Ya no aporté más al feca,
Ni a la barra de la esquina,
Le rajaba hasta a las minas
Por si había que garpar.
No faltó pa'completar
Aquella cancha barrosa,
Cuando una mina rasposa
Que mi bulín compartía
Se las tomara un buen día
Al ver fulera la cosa.

Empeñé el zarzo y el bobo,
Refundí hasta la marroca,
Del centro me fui a la boca
A vivir en un altillo;
El aire de conventillo
Me fue ganando de apuro
A fuerza e'marroco duro
Ya no podía tirar
Y al no poderme aguantar
M'hice amigo del laburo.

Hoy le rajo al entrevero
De timbas y de paradas
Minga de vida alocada
Ya no tira la carpeta;
Una grela que me aquieta
Acusa sus beneficios
Y sin hacer sacrificios
Cuando hay tornillo en invierno
Me tomo el sol de palermo
De paso despunto el vicio.

Because of the Hangover

Because of the hangover
I was left stranded on the road,
The things, oh my mama
I had to deal with!
I couldn't dress properly,
I was short of cash,
And not liking the blow
Or the groups to hang out with,
To be able to drink
From whiskey I went to quebracho.

I didn't contribute anymore to the coffee,
Nor to the corner bar,
I even ditched the girls
In case I had to pay.
What was missing to complete
That muddy field,
When a rough girl
Who shared my place
Left one fine day
Seeing things were going bad.

I pawned my stuff,
I squandered everything,
From downtown I went to the slums
To live in a garret;
The air of the tenement
Was quickly getting to me
By force of hard living
I couldn't throw anymore
And not being able to hold on
I became friends with work.

Now I avoid the mix
Of gambling and hangouts
No more wild life
The folder doesn't cut it anymore;
A joint that calms me down
Shows its benefits
And without making sacrifices
When there's a screw in winter
I soak up the sun in Palermo
And in passing I curb the vice.

Escrita por: Roberto Grela / Mario Cecere