| Third World
|
| The Boy In The Cover
|
| The boy in the cover yesterday
|
| sold flowers in Corrientes
|
| later he lost his girl in
|
| a room in a hospital
|
| and today kindly and with a
|
| big smile on teeth
|
| he stops you in the street and if you don't give him
|
| she sends you to save.
|
| If the police do not deal with it
|
| very
|
| decently, if the truckers
|
| they don't take him as far as he goes
|
| he he returns to the Docke walking
|
| very quietly with the 22 on
|
| the pocket of the packing paper.
|
| A few years ago he walked the streets
|
| making "La Paz" and selling postcards
|
| The world is full of motherfuckers and
|
| especially today the route is full
|
| I will not die of love.
|
| The cover boy has some
|
| unfinished business, his mother is
|
| of yiro and his brothers of him drinking at the bar
|
| And on Saturday afternoon the court is heard
|
| a single cry: Dock Sud already had a son and
|
| they named it Arsenal
|
| And pass the beards, the snobs
|
| and the
|
| fans balls, tanks, stars,
|
| magazines and the Federal.
|
| And I laugh at everyone in the face they are idiots
|
| an angel watches over me and protects me in this city
|
| I always lived in the Devil's mouth
|
| being born, dying and resurrecting
|
| The world is full of motherfuckers
|
| and today especially the route is full
|
| I will not die of love
|
| I'm not going to die of love
|
| I'm not going to die of love
|
| no no no no. |