Construcción
Amó aquella vez como si fuese última
Besó a su mujer como si fuese última
Y a cada hijo suyo cual si fuese el único
Y atravesó la calle con su paso tímido
Subió a la construcción como si fuese máquina
Alzó en el balcón cuatro paredes sólidas
Ladrillo con ladrillo en un diseño mágico
Sus ojos embotados de cemento y lágrimas
Sentase a descansar como si fuese sábado
Comió su pan con queso cual si fuese un príncipe
Bebió y sollozó como si fuese un naufrago
Danzó y se rió como si oyese música
Y tropezó en el cielo con su paso alcohólico
Y flotó por el aire cual si fuese un pájaro
Y terminó en el suelo como un bulto flácido
Y agonizó en el medio del paseo público
Murió a contramano entorpeciendo el tránsito
Amó aquella vez como si fuese el último
Besó a su mujer como si fuese única
Y a cada hijo suyo cual si fuese el pródigo
Y atravesó la calle con su paso alcohólico
Subió a la construcción como si fuese sólida
Alzó en el balcón cuatro paredes mágicas
Ladrillo con ladrillo en un diseño lógico
Sus ojos embotados de cemento y tránsito
Sentase a descansar como si fuese un príncipe
Comió su pan con queso cual si fuese máximo
Bebió y sollozó como si fuese máquina
Danzó y se rió como si fuese el próximo
Y tropezó en el cielo cual si oyese música
Y flotó por el aire cual si fuese sábado
Y terminó en el suelo como un bulto tímido
Agonizó en el medio del paseo naufrago
Murió a contramano entorpeciendo el público
Por ese pan de comer y el suelo para dormir
Registro para nacer, permiso para reír
Por dejarme respirar, y por dejarme existir
Dios le pague
Por esa grapa de gracia que tenemos que beber
Por ese humo desgracia que tenemos que toser
Por los andamios de gente para subir y caer
Dios le pague
Por esa arpía que un día nos va a arrugar y escupir
Y por las moscas y besos que nos vendrán a cubrir
Y por la calma postrera que al fin nos va a redimir
Dios le pague
Amó aquella vez como si fuese maquina
Besó a su mujer como si fuese lógico
Alzó en el balcón cuatro paredes flácidas
Sentase a descansar como si fuese pájaro
Y floto en el aire cual si fuese un príncipe
Y termino en el suelo como un bulto alcohólico
Murió a contramano entorpeciendo el sábado
Construction
He loved that time as if it were the last
He kissed his wife as if it were the last
And each of his children as if they were the only one
And he crossed the street with his timid step
He went up to the construction as if he were a machine
He raised on the balcony four solid walls
Brick by brick in a magical design
His eyes clouded with cement and tears
He sat down to rest as if it were Saturday
He ate his bread with cheese as if he were a prince
He drank and sobbed as if he were a castaway
He danced and laughed as if he heard music
And he stumbled in the sky with his alcoholic step
And floated through the air as if he were a bird
And ended up on the ground like a flaccid lump
And agonized in the middle of the public walkway
He died against traffic hindering the traffic
He loved that time as if it were the last
He kissed his wife as if she were the only one
And each of his children as if he were the prodigal
And he crossed the street with his alcoholic step
He went up to the construction as if it were solid
He raised on the balcony four magical walls
Brick by brick in a logical design
His eyes clouded with cement and traffic
He sat down to rest as if he were a prince
He ate his bread with cheese as if it were the most
He drank and sobbed as if he were a machine
He danced and laughed as if he were the next
And he stumbled in the sky as if he heard music
And floated through the air as if it were Saturday
And ended up on the ground like a timid lump
Agonized in the middle of the castaway walkway
He died against traffic hindering the public
For that bread to eat and the ground to sleep
Register to be born, permission to laugh
For letting me breathe, and for letting me exist
God pay him
For that grace we have to drink
For that disgraceful smoke we have to cough
For the scaffolding of people to climb and fall
God pay him
For that harpy that one day will wrinkle and spit on us
And for the flies and kisses that will come to cover us
And for the final calm that will finally redeem us
God pay him
He loved that time as if he were a machine
He kissed his wife as if it were logical
He raised on the balcony four flaccid walls
He sat down to rest as if he were a bird
And floated in the air as if he were a prince
And ended up on the ground like an alcoholic lump
He died against traffic hindering the Saturday
Escrita por: Chico Buarque