Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Mariscal Tito, artist - Bersuit Vergarabat. Album song La Argentinidad Al Palo, in the genre Иностранный рок
Date of issue: 28.06.2004
Record label: Universal Music Argentina
Song language: Spanish
Mariscal Tito(original) |
Es el combo del gran quilombo |
Nació para primero ¡y por lejos! |
Pero va al bombo |
Ni siquiera a la cola, rezagado |
Sus historietas lo agotan |
Lo van cercando |
Para vivir de la espuma |
Que da la bruma espesa del estanque |
Cultiva bichos, nichos, tinchos |
Y tirzos demonÃacos y pestilentes |
De esos que odia la gente |
Que fácilmente odia |
Mas si es a otro, mas si ese otro |
Sos vos que viajás a la hazaña |
Perfectamente, sin omitir un detalle |
Sos productor en la calle |
Puntilloso, obsesivo, previsor, atrevido y valiente |
Sos de jugarte la vida |
Un gran actor que no se corre del papel |
(Siempre derecho a la villa) |
Y en un rancho ni te conocen |
Y te la venden cortada |
Jabón en polvo o harina barata |
O veneno para rata, que no te mata |
¡Si estás impune! |
¡Tito, dejá esa porquerÃa! |
Ya sin amigos, pero te adoran |
Le robaste a la muerte toda su esencia |
Pa' convidarla |
Sos un repartidor del Dios que amamos |
Paseando por San Telmo |
Con la cruz en el nazo |
Soldado raso en la guerra del quenazo |
¿Qué es la fisura? |
Es una grieta de hielo |
¿Y el tembleque? |
Es el candombe del trueque |
Todo por nada |
Te veo bailando el baile |
Del espÃa bajo la mesa |
Al compás de las sirenas de policÃa |
Pero no importa, esto se cura |
Con una dieta de alcohol, pastillas, faso |
Ocho horas de paja y la locura |
Que es la fisura más dura |
Y la locura, que es la fisura más dura |
¡Tito, dejá esa porquerÃa! |
Migo Tito, te pongo el pecho de espejo |
Pa' que te quieras, si estas maltrecho |
Acá tenÃ(c)s un amigo, que te condena a estar bien |
Para aliviarte un poquito |
De ese maldito martirio de distorsiones |
Aunque emocione, ilusiones |
Reaccione bien, en la cabeza recta |
Porque la tuerce la hace perversa |
Para que salga la histeria |
Miedos, miserias, atlas de mentiras |
Proezas y aplastar a la culpa |
De haber matado a Cristo |
Por ser decente, como la gente |
Que mata por envidia |
Que es la desidia de los viejos |
Que, como yo, juzga y da un consejo |
¡Tito, traé esa porquerÃa! |
(translation) |
It is the combo of the great quilombo |
He was born for first and by far! |
But it goes to the hype |
Not even in line, lagging behind |
His comics exhaust him |
they are surrounding him |
To live off the foam |
That gives the thick mist of the pond |
Grow bugs, niches, tinchos |
And demonic and pestilential thyrzos |
Of those that people hate |
who easily hates |
More if it's someone else, more if that other |
It's you who travels to the feat |
Perfectly, without omitting a detail |
You are a producer in the street |
Punctilious, obsessive, farsighted, daring and brave |
You are to risk your life |
A great actor who does not run from the role |
(Always right to the village) |
And in a ranch they don't even know you |
And they sell it to you cut |
Soap powder or cheap flour |
Or rat poison, that doesn't kill you |
If you are unpunished! |
Tito, stop that crap! |
No friends anymore, but they adore you |
You robbed death of all its essence |
To invite her |
You are a deliverer of the God we love |
Strolling through San Telmo |
With the cross on the nazo |
Private soldier in the quenazo war |
What is the fissure? |
It's an ice crack |
And the shake? |
It is the candombe of barter |
Everything for nothing |
I see you dancing the dance |
From the spy under the table |
To the beat of police sirens |
But it doesn't matter, this heals |
With a diet of alcohol, pills, faso |
Eight hours of handjob and madness |
What is the hardest fissure |
And madness, which is the hardest fissure |
Tito, stop that crap! |
Migo Tito, I'll make your chest look like a mirror |
So that you love yourself, if you are battered |
Here you have a friend, who condemns you to be well |
To relieve you a little |
Of that damned martyrdom of distortions |
Although it excites, illusions |
React well, on the straight head |
Because it twists it makes it perverse |
For the hysteria to come out |
Fears, miseries, atlas of lies |
Feats and crush guilt |
Of having killed Christ |
For being decent, like people |
who kills out of envy |
What is the laziness of the old |
Who, like me, judges and gives advice |
Tito, bring that crap! |