Torturador
Ya se murió el molar
Sucumbe tu voluntad
Tu desesperación
Te impide enfrentarte
A ese profesional
De la tortura bucal
De la sutil inyección
Escuchar y escuchar
Toda su simple versión
Tu temor, tu dolor
No importan a un profesional
Y sus años de facultad
Y sus años de aprender, conmigo
Abrir la boca
No ver nada en la luz
Y un gotear de terror
Madre del dentista
Y la parrilla, un triste principiante
Confesa, cual es tu pasta dental
Quien te la dio
quien te la vendió
no es un tipo normal
Lo voy a mandar a buscar
no sabe de belleza dental.
Torturer
The molar is dead
Your will succumbs
Your desperation
Prevents you from facing
That oral torture professional
With the subtle injection
Listen and listen
To his simple version
Your fear, your pain
Don't matter to a professional
And his years of college
And his years of learning, with me
Open your mouth
See nothing in the light
And a dripping of terror
Dentist's mother
And the grill, a sad beginner
Confess, what's your toothpaste
Who gave it to you
Who sold it to you
He's not a regular guy
I'm going to send him to look for
He knows nothing about dental beauty.