Chichipía

You have more soil in your mate
than the farm where your old man
played it like a dwarf
working from sunrise to sunset.
And today you come to give me a dam,
I'll show you from afar,
that underneath the polished
you've got too much puloil.

You're lambés by the boys
of the cinema or the radio,
you are tordilla or alazana,
you always change your color.
You've been made to look like a churro,
the María Félix of the neighborhood
and you're crazy as hell
because of the look of a singer.

Chichipia!
What are you pretending to be a vampire
if your old man is a worker,
your brothers are bums,
and there are seven of you in one room.
You're a cheek!
Learn to earn a penny,
that to make a soup
your old lady saved her clothes
borrowing a bone.
Chichipia!
If you were my daughter
that biabusa would give you
to get you out of the berretín.

You've been playing the artist so much
your antenna is failing
and it's not worth four coppers
your carnival.
I'm made between crooks
and that's why I feel sorry for you,
to be right with the betting game,
that awaits you at the end.

You have a whole corso
a whole corso against the grain,
you are a shotgun case,
of vest and something else.
What a favor you would do us
if you were to chase a buffalo,
and without a beat or see you later,
you'd be amassed once and for all.