Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Toreando al Destino, artist - El Barrio. Album song Hijo Del Levante, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 20.10.2014
Record label: Concert Music Entertainment
Song language: Spanish
Toreando al Destino(original) |
Ay amor, hoy por tí pienso que no soy feliz |
A veces tengo que da la razón |
Pa no tenerme que poner en la balanza de un querer |
Que ahoga, aprieta y desmorona, mal fin tenga tu persona |
Ahora que por fin ya no te siento |
Ya no le temo a tus vanidades |
Y mira que nunca sembré el fuerte viento |
Siempre contigo recogí tempestades |
Ahora que por fin ya no te siento |
Se ha jubilao el demonio y mis males |
Ahora por fin que no me atan tus besos |
Ahora mis sueños tienen mil finales |
Y si el olvio hizo de mi el estandarte que tuvo la pena |
Hoy he aprendido por fin a sonreir |
Saqué mi alma de esta cuarentena |
Mis ansiedades saben sobrevivir |
Sin condiciones y tantas cadenas |
Hoy he escuchao a mi boca decir: |
En paz con dios, terminó mi condena |
Por la puerta toriles salió mi destino |
Su pelo delata era negro bragao |
Altito de cara, pitones astifino |
Semblante nervioso, bien amorrillao |
Mi miedo lo espera en las tablas escondio |
Mitad emblanquecia y mitad colorao |
Y bajo la montera ya no escondo mi sinom |
Vestio de luces presente y pasao |
Quédate, no ves que estoy mu solo |
Quédate, hoy me asusta el silencio |
Quédate y sueña tú conmigo |
Quédate y déjame dormio |
Quédate, no ves que estoy vacío |
Quédate y sueña tú conmigo |
¡ay que bonito, ay que bonito! |
Escuchando la lluvia a tu laito. |
(bis) |
Que soniquetazo tenian tus manos, manuel mío |
Fue un placer rozarte, sentir tu guitarra, amigo mío |
Y en tu nombre repican campanas de glorias con mil cascabeles |
Y los gitanos te lloran por los jereles |
Ay morao, mora, mora, moraito |
Santiago te tiene en su corazoncito. |
(bis) |
Tus calles huelen a azahar |
A naranjos y jazmines y a flores de temporá |
Qué bonito cantarle a mi pueblo |
Qué bonito el acento del sur |
Hay tres cosas que no me arrepiento: |
El haber nacio en cai, sentirme flamenco y morir andaluz |
Tus calles huelen a azahar |
A naranjos y jazmines y a flores de temporá |
Si dios me diera el mando vida mía |
Como se lo dió a la muerte, yo te juro quitaría |
La injusticia y porquería que hacen que todos los días |
Ponga trabas pa quererte |
Si dios me diera el mando vida mía |
Como se lo dió a la muerte, en tu puerta tallaría |
Este nuevo mandamiento: nunca pruebes de una boca |
Que te arrastre hasta tu muerte |
Pero todo queda en silencio |
Tú pa tú casa y yo pa la mía |
Ahora dejemos que la noche nos hable |
De segundas partes o de despedias |
Ay morao, mora, mora, moraito |
Santiago te tiene en su corazoncito. |
(bis) |
(translation) |
Oh love, today because of you I think I'm not happy |
Sometimes I have to agree |
To not have to put myself on the scale of a want |
That suffocates, squeezes and crumbles, have a bad end for your person |
Now that I finally no longer feel you |
I no longer fear your vanities |
And see that I never sowed the strong wind |
Always with you I picked up storms |
Now that I finally no longer feel you |
The devil and my ills have retired |
Now finally your kisses don't bind me |
Now my dreams have a thousand endings |
And if oblivion made me the banner that was worth it |
Today I have finally learned to smile |
I took my soul out of this quarantine |
My anxieties know how to survive |
No strings attached and so many chains |
Today I have heard my mouth say: |
In peace with God, my sentence is over |
My destiny came out of the bullpen door |
His hair betrayed him was bragao black |
Altito de cara, astifino pythons |
Nervous countenance, well bruised |
My fear awaits him in the hidden tables |
Half white and half red |
And under the montera I no longer hide my sinom |
Dress of lights present and past |
Stay, can't you see that I'm alone |
Stay, today the silence scares me |
stay and dream of me |
stay and let me sleep |
Stay, can't you see I'm empty |
stay and dream of me |
Oh how beautiful, oh how beautiful! |
Listening to the rain at your side. |
(Bis) |
What a soniquetazo your hands had, my manuel |
It was a pleasure touching you, feeling your guitar, my friend |
And in your name bells of glory ring with a thousand bells |
And the gypsies cry to you for the jerks |
Oh morao, mora, mora, moraito |
Santiago has you in his little heart. |
(Bis) |
Your streets smell of orange blossom |
To orange trees and jasmine and seasonal flowers |
How nice to sing to my people |
How nice the southern accent |
There are three things I do not regret: |
Being born in cai, feeling flamenco and dying Andalusian |
Your streets smell of orange blossom |
To orange trees and jasmine and seasonal flowers |
If God gave me the command, my life |
As he gave it to death, I swear I would take it away |
The injustice and filth they make every day |
put obstacles to love you |
If God gave me the command, my life |
As he gave it to death, on your door he would carve |
This new commandment: never taste of a mouth |
drag you to your death |
But all is silent |
You for your house and I for mine |
Now let the night speak to us |
Of second parts or goodbyes |
Oh morao, mora, mora, moraito |
Santiago has you in his little heart. |
(Bis) |