Mientras Haya Luces De Bar
Volcándose la décima cerveza
andaba un tipo sin casa ni edad.
Frotándose los ojos para ver más lejos,
aunque no quede nada por mirar.
Charlas y gestos que se muerden la cola.
El rengo que seguro duerme afuera otra vez.
Grapas calientes con gusto a derrota,
y el sueño canalla de no volver a casa.
Ella entró como de ninguna parte.
Hubo una mole de silencio en el bar.
Al tío el mundo le importó tres cuernos
y con la botella al hombro se invitó a sentar,
en el próximo bar.
Mientras haya luces en el próximo bar.
Hay ojos de mujer que castigan duro
y ella lo sabe tan bien como él.
Sus bocas hablaron sin decirse nada,
un mozo sin dientes los echó al amanecer.
El dice que la vida es un chiste maldito.
Ella llora siempre que suena un blues.
Cruzaron la ciudad sin saber sus nombres.
Las manos frías, quemándose.
Y ella entró como de ninguna parte.
Elegante como un barco viejo.
Y al tipo el mundo le importa tres cuernos
mientras haya luces en el próximo bar.
As Long As There Are Bar Lights
Pouring the tenth beer
a guy was walking without a home or age.
Rubbing his eyes to see further,
even if there's nothing left to look at.
Chats and gestures that bite their tail.
The limping man who surely sleeps outside again.
Hot staples with a taste of defeat,
and the rogue dream of not going home.
She came in as if from nowhere.
There was a mass of silence in the bar.
The world didn't matter a damn to the uncle
and with the bottle on his shoulder, he invited himself to sit,
in the next bar.
As long as there are lights in the next bar.
There are women's eyes that punish hard
and she knows it as well as he does.
Their mouths spoke without saying anything,
a toothless waiter threw them out at dawn.
He says life is a damn joke.
She cries whenever a blues plays.
They crossed the city without knowing their names.
Cold hands, burning.
And she came in as if from nowhere.
Elegant like an old ship.
And the guy couldn't care less about the world
as long as there are lights in the next bar.