Che existencialista

En esta tierra, que es tierra de varones
Hecha con lanzas de gauchos legendarios,
Nos han salido una porción de otarios
Que yo no sé por qué usan pantalones.
Llevan el pelo largo y despeinado
El saco de un color, de otro el talompa,
Hablan de “ti” y de “tu” los pobres gansos
Y al agua y al jabón le tienen bronca.
 
Existencialista,
No te hagas el artista,
Chapá un pico y una pala
Y laburala, flor de vagón.
Existencialista,
Mejor cambiá de pista,
Andá a Paúl y pelate
Alargá el saco
Y bañate, che cartón.
 
Yo me acuerdo cuando mama me contaba
Esas historias de guapos del pasado,
Donde un varón frente a otro se jugaba
Por la mujer o el nombre pisoteado.
Y ahora al ver a estos giles disfrazarse
Con el saco de tajito y bien cortina,
A ver si ustedes no van a chivarse
Al no saber si son, hombres o minas.

English translation

In this land, which is a land of men
Made with spears of legendary gauchos,
We have a portion of otarians
Who I don't know why they wear pants.
They wear their hair long and tousled
The coat of one color, the talompa of another,
They speak of "you" and "your", the poor geese.
And they're angry with soap and water.
 
Existentialist,
Don't be an artist,
Put a pickaxe and a shovel
And work it, flower of a wagon.
Existentialist,
You'd better change tracks,
Go to Paul and peel your hair
And take a bath, you cardboard.
And take a bath, you cardboard.
 
I remember when mom used to tell me
Those stories of handsome men of the past,
Where one male against the other would gamble
For the woman or the trampled name.
And now, when I see these guys disguise themselves
With the sack of slash and well curtain,
Let's see if you're not going to snitch on them
Not knowing if they are men or women.