Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Músico Loco, artist - Fondo Flamenco. Album song Las Cartas Sobre la Mesa, in the genre Музыка мираDate of issue: 07.12.2008
Record label: Coliseum
Song language: Spanish
Músico Loco(original) |
| Vive en su mundo que no es el nuestro |
| Lleno de acordes… |
| Rodeado de notas cubierto de compases |
| Quejios que quiebran el aire |
| Su voz te suena a la melodia de sus canciones |
| Cantar para vivir vivir para cantar ya que mas da… |
| Si su única preocupación es sacar una mera canción |
| Que su guitarra no le heche de menos… |
| Su mente vuela cada día en un mundo que el mismo creó |
| Y flotando en su nube de alegría él es feliz alli es feliz… |
| Le llaman loco porque camina a solas |
| Tarareando y escribiendo unas notas |
| Y en ese cuaderno lleno te tachones que siempre lleva encima… |
| Letras de amor de desengaño y penas |
| Letras que cuentan historias letras… |
| Que mas da lo que escriba si sale del alma |
| De este musico loco… musico loco… |
| Sueña con la música despierta con ella |
| Vive enamorado de esa dulce doncella |
| De curvas de mujer y seis cuerdas… |
| Nadie le entiende nadie comprende lo que siente |
| Cada vez que se deja llevar… |
| Su mente vuela cada día en un mundo que el mismo creó |
| Y flotando en su nube de alegría él es feliz alli es feliz… |
| Le llaman loco porque camina a solas |
| Tarareando y escribiendo unas notas |
| Y en ese cuaderno lleno te tachones que siempre lleva encima… |
| Letras de amor de desengaño y penas |
| Letras que cuentan historias letras… |
| Que mas da lo que escriba si sale del alma |
| De este musico loco… |
| Y en cada canción late a compás su corazón… |
| Me llaman loco porque camino solo |
| Tarareando y escribiendo unos tonos |
| Y en este cuaderno lleno de tachones |
| Que siempre llevo encima… |
| Letras de amor de desengaño y penas |
| Letras que cuentan historias… letras… |
| Que mas da lo que escriba si tan solo soy |
| Otro musico loco… |
| Musico loco… |
| (translation) |
| He lives in his world that is not ours |
| Full of chords… |
| Surrounded by notes covered in bars |
| Quejios that break the air |
| His voice sounds like the melody of his songs |
| Sing to live, live to sing, since it doesn't matter... |
| If your only concern for him is to put out a mere song |
| Don't let his guitar miss him... |
| His mind flies every day in a world that he himself created |
| And floating on his cloud of joy he is happy there he is happy... |
| They call him crazy because he walks alone |
| Humming and writing some notes |
| And in that full notebook you cross out that he always carries with him... |
| Love letters of disappointment and sorrows |
| Lyrics that tell stories lyrics… |
| That he doesn't care what he writes if he comes out of the soul |
| Of this crazy musician... crazy musician... |
| Dream with the music wake up with it |
| He lives in love with that sweet maiden |
| Of woman's curves and six strings... |
| Nobody understands him, nobody understands what he feels |
| Every time he gets carried away... |
| His mind flies every day in a world that he himself created |
| And floating in his cloud of joy he is happy there he is happy... |
| They call him crazy because he walks alone |
| Humming and writing some notes |
| And in that notebook full of cross-outs that he always carries with him... |
| Love letters of disappointment and sorrows |
| Lyrics that tell stories lyrics… |
| What does it matter what I write if it comes from the soul |
| Of this crazy musician... |
| And in each song his heart beats to the beat... |
| They call me crazy because I walk alone |
| Humming and writing a few tones |
| And in this notebook full of strikethroughs |
| That I always carry with me... |
| Love letters of disappointment and sorrows |
| Letters that tell stories… letters… |
| Who cares what I write if I'm just |
| Another crazy musician... |
| crazy musician... |