Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Babaloco, artist - La Gossa Sorda. Album song L'Últim Heretge, in the genre Иностранный рок
Date of issue: 23.05.2010
Record label: Maldito
Song language: Catalan
Babaloco(original) |
Babaloco |
Que amb la mirada desarma |
Per la vorera vas curt de cash |
Per la vorera vas curt de cash |
Fugint de la guàrdia urbana |
Babaloco |
Hombre habitual de la Rambla |
Les teues faces són la teua llar |
El teu imperi del Raval al mar |
Els teus record un fil de sobrietat |
Dins d’una eterna ressaca |
Sense direcció, sense brúixola ni timó |
Balla-li, balla-li |
Per la rambla putes i kebab i carteristes |
Botiguers desconfiats i cases buides |
Guiris, camells, uniformes i secretes |
Un grup de valencians que s’aburreixen el diumenge |
Demanes per fumar i t’asseus al nostre rogle |
En certa timidessa els miraves |
El fum et fa sonriure, t’allibera les paraules |
Fumaves, callaves, parlaves de ta mare |
Babaloco |
Babaloco |
Babaloco |
Cavaller de ferro desafiant als dimonis |
Els va jurar als seus que tornaria amb diners i no va tornar |
(??)li porta la vida a les paraules, són obscures |
I escollint-ne de la sentència la fal·làcia més fatal |
Raval amunt, raval avall, raval, raval, raval, raval, raval |
Passeja engalernada una moral europeista que no vol morir |
Jugarem i aprendres esquisofrènia natural |
Jugarem a ser els mediadors de la veritat |
Contalí el conte a qui se’l crega |
Hola que tal? |
benvingut a barcelona |
A la ciutat més moderna, més europea |
El civisme patrulla als carrers |
La missèria s’amaga i la gent guapa |
No vol saber res dels sense papers |
A la ciutat més bufona |
Sona o no sona la sirena de la veritat |
I una ombra que escapa i el civisme que apunta i dispara a matar |
Babaloco |
Babaloco |
Babaloco |
Babaloco |
Mai més (x6) |
(translation) |
Babaloco |
That with the gaze disarms |
You run out of cash on the sidewalk |
You run out of cash on the sidewalk |
Fleeing the city guard |
Babaloco |
Usual man on the Rambla |
Your faces are your home |
Your Raval empire at sea |
Your memories are a thread of sobriety |
In an eternal hangover |
No steering, no compass or rudder |
Dance it, dance it |
On the boulevard whores and kebabs and pickpockets |
Suspicious shopkeepers and empty houses |
Guiris, camels, uniforms and secrets |
A group of Valencians who get bored on Sunday |
You ask to smoke and you sit on our rogle |
In a certain shyness you looked at them |
Smoke makes you smile, frees you from words |
You smoked, you were silent, you talked about your mother |
Babaloco |
Babaloco |
Babaloco |
Iron knight defying demons |
He swore to his family that he would return with money and did not return |
(??) it brings life to words, they are obscure |
And choosing the most fatal fallacy from the sentence |
Raval amunt, raval avall, raval, raval, raval, raval, raval |
A Europeanist morality that does not want to die walks briskly |
We will play and learn natural schizophrenia |
We will play at being the mediators of truth |
Tell the story to whoever believes it |
Hi, how are you? |
welcome to barcelona |
In the most modern, most European city |
Civility patrols the streets |
Misery is hidden and people are beautiful |
He doesn't want to know anything about the undocumented |
In the most beautiful city |
Whether or not the siren of truth sounds |
And a shadow that escapes and civility that aims and shoots to kill |
Babaloco |
Babaloco |
Babaloco |
Babaloco |
Never again (x6) |