Carnival in Rio (Punk was)
Dad - what was punkrock...?
Punk was rotten, punk was vicious,
always being unambitious.
Punk was a piss-up, punk was a punch-up,
picking your nose and chucking your lunch up.
Punk was obnoxious, punk was obscene,
having a pop at our dear Queen.
Punk was a twisted tasteless trip,
punk was a pin through her majesty's lip.
We never took shit from noone, we just didn't give a fuck.
If you didn't like our music, that was just your bloody hard luck.
Punk was a riot, every night a rumble,
a nice bit o'blow and a nice bit o'grumble.
Punk was a sleazy, punk was a slum,
polaroid pics in bed with your mum.
Punk was unhealthy, quite unclean,
it was a mockery, malignant mean.
Punk was criminal, punk was a con,
and so was our favourite fugitive Ron.
We never took shit from noone, we just didn't give a fuck.
If you didn't like our music, that was just your bloody hard luck.
Now open your eyes and listen my son, there's no reason to be sad.
Just hang around and stay with us, it'll all be coming back.
We never took shit from noone, we just didn't give a fuck.
If you didn't like our music, that was just your bloody hard luck.
Carnaval en Río (El punk era)
Papá, ¿qué era el punk rock...?
El punk era podrido, el punk era malicioso,
siempre sin ambiciones.
El punk era una borrachera, el punk era una pelea,
sacarse los mocos y vomitar tu almuerzo.
El punk era odioso, el punk era obsceno,
dándole a nuestra querida Reina.
El punk era un viaje retorcido y sin gusto,
el punk era un alfiler a través del labio de su majestad.
Nunca nos dejamos pisotear por nadie, simplemente no nos importaba un carajo.
Si no te gustaba nuestra música, eso era simplemente mala suerte.
El punk era un motín, cada noche una pelea,
un poco de droga y un poco de queja.
El punk era sucio, el punk era un barrio bajo,
fotos polaroid en la cama con tu mamá.
El punk era insalubre, bastante sucio,
era una burla, malévolo y cruel.
El punk era criminal, el punk era un estafador,
y también nuestro fugitivo favorito Ron.
Nunca nos dejamos pisotear por nadie, simplemente no nos importaba un carajo.
Si no te gustaba nuestra música, eso era simplemente mala suerte.
Ahora abre los ojos y escucha, hijo mío, no hay razón para estar triste.
Solo quédate y únete a nosotros, todo volverá.
Nunca nos dejamos pisotear por nadie, simplemente no nos importaba un carajo.
Si no te gustaba nuestra música, eso era simplemente mala suerte.
Escrita por: Ronnie Biggs