Lyrics of Algo Personal - Joan Manuel Serrat, Joaquín Sabina

Algo Personal (original)

Probablemente en su pueblo
Se le recordará
Como carrochos de buenas personas
Que hurtaban flores
Para regalar a su mamá
Y daban de comer a las palomas
Probablemente que todo eso debe ser verdad
Aunque es más turbio;
Cómo y de qué manera
Llegaron esos individuos
A ser lo que son
Ni a quien sirven
Cuando alzan las banderas
Hombres de paja
Que usan la colonia y el honor
Para ocultar oscuras intensiones
Tienen doble vida, son sicarios del mal
Entre esos tipos y yo
Hay algo personal
Rodeados de protocolo
Comitiva y seguridad
Viajan de incógnito en autos blindados
A sembrar calumnias
A mentir con naturalidad
A colgar en las escuelas
Su retrato
Se gastan más de lo que tienen
En coleccionar espías
Listas negras y arsenales
Resulta bochornoso verles fanfarronear
A ver quién es el que
La tiene más grande
Se arman hasta los dientes
En el nombre de la paz
Juegan con cosas que no tienen repuesto
Y la culpa es de el otro
Si algo les sale mal
Entre esos tipos y yo
Hay algo personal
Y como quien en la cosa
Nada tiene que perder
Pulsan la alarma y rompen las promesas
Y en nombre de quien no tienen
El gusto de conocer
Nos ponen la pistola en la cabeza
Se agarran de los pelos
Pero para no ensuciar
Van a cagar a casa de otra gente
Y experimentan nuevos metodos
De masacrar, sofisticados
Y a la vez convincentes
No conocen ni a su padre
Cuando pierden el control
Ni recuerdan que en el mundo hay niños
Nos niegan a todos
El pan y la sal
Entre esos tipos y yo
Hay algo personal
Pero eso sí, los sicarios
No pierden ocasión
De declarar públicamente
Su empeño en propiciar
Un díalogo de franca distensión
Que les permita hallar un marco previo
Que garantice unas premisas mínimas
Que faciliten crear los resortes
Que impulsen un punto de partida
Sólido y capaz de este a oeste
Y de sur a norte
Donde establecer las bases
De un tratado de amistad
Que contribuya a poner los cimientos
De una plataforma donde edificar
Un hermoso futuro de amor y paz

(translation)

Probably in your town
you will be reminded
Like cars of good people
who stole flowers
To give to your mom
And they fed the pigeons
Probably all of that must be true
Although it is more cloudy;
How and in what way
Those guys came
to be what they are
Nor who do they serve?
When they raise the flags
straw men
Who wear the colony and the honor
To hide dark intentions
They have a double life, they are assassins of evil
Between those guys and me
there is something personal
Surrounded by protocol
entourage and security
They travel incognito in armored cars
To sow slander
to lie naturally
To hang in schools
your portrait
They spend more than they have
On collecting spies
Blacklists and arsenals
It's embarrassing to see them bragging
Let's see who's what
has it bigger
They are armed to the teeth
In the name of peace
They play with things that have no spare
And it's the other's fault
If something goes wrong
Between those guys and me
there is something personal
And as who in the thing
you have nothing to lose
They ring the alarm and break promises
And in the name of whom they do not have
the pleasure of knowing
They put the gun to our heads
They grab by the hair
But not to dirty
They're going to shit at other people's houses
And experiment new methods
To slaughter, sophisticated
And at the same time convincing
They don't even know their father
When they lose control
They don't even remember that there are children in the world
They deny us all
The bread and the salt
Between those guys and me
there is something personal
But yes, the assassins
They don't miss an opportunity
to declare publicly
His commitment to promoting
A dialogue of frank relaxation
That allows them to find a previous framework
That guarantees minimum premises
That make it easy to create the springs
That drive a starting point
Solid and capable from east to west
And from south to north
Where to lay the foundation
Of a friendship treaty
That contributes to laying the foundations
Of a platform to build
A beautiful future of love and peace