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Se dice de mí

Francisco CANAROFrancisco CANAROmilonga1943-05-1941 videos
Singer: Francisco CANAROSinger 2: Carlos RoldanComposer: Francisco CanaroAuthor: Ivo Pelay

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Lyrics
Se dice de mí...
se dice de mí...
se dice de mí...
Se dice que soy fiera,
que camino a lo malevo,
que soy chueca y que me muevo
con un aire compadrón,
que parezco Leguisamo,
mi nariz es puntiaguda,
la figura no me ayuda
y mi boca es un buzón.

Si charlo con Luis,
con Pedro o con Juan,
hablando de mí
los hombres están.
Critican si ya,
la línea perdí,
se fijan si voy,
si vengo o si fui.

Se dicen muchas cosas,
mas si el bulto no interesa,
¿por qué pierden la cabeza
ocupándose de mí?

Yo sé que muchos
me desprecian comprar quieren
y suspiran y se mueren
cuando piensan en mi amor.
Y más de uno se derrite si suspiro
y se quedan, si los miro,
resoplando como un Ford.

Si fea soy, pongámosle,
que de eso aun no me enteré.
En el amor yo solo sé
que a más de un gil, dejé a pie.
Podrán decir, podrán hablar,
y murmurar y rebuznar,
mas la fealdad que dios me dio
mucha mujer me la envidió.
Y no dirán que me engrupí
porque modesta siempre fui…
¡Yo soy así!

Y ocultan de mí…
ocultan que yo tengo
unos ojos soñadores,
además otros primores
que producen sensación.
Si soy fiera sé que, en cambio,
tengo un cutis de muñeca,
los que dicen que soy chueca
no me han visto en camisón.

Los hombres de mí
critican la voz,
el modo de andar,
la pinta, la tos.
Critican si ya
la línea perdí,
se fijan si voy,
si vengo, o si fui.

Se dicen muchas cosas,
mas si el bulto no interesa,
¿por qué pierden la cabeza
ocupándose de mí?
English translation
It is said of me...
it is said of me...
it is said of me...
It is said that I am fierce,
that I walk like a bad boy,
that I'm crooked and that I move around
with an air of compadron,
that I look like Leguisamo,
my nose is pointed,
my figure doesn't help me
and my mouth is a mailbox.

If I chat with Luis,
with Peter or John,
talking about me
men are.
They criticize if already,
I've lost the line,
they look to see if I'm coming,
if I come or if I went.

Many things are said,
but if the bulk is of no interest,
why do they lose their heads
taking care of me?

I know that many
despise me buy want
and they sigh and die
when they think of my love.
And more than one melts if I sigh
and they stay, if I look at them
snorting like a Ford.

If I am ugly, let's put it on,
I haven't found that out yet.
In love I only know
that I've left more than one fool on foot.
They can say, they can talk,
and murmur and bray,
but the ugliness that God gave me
many a woman envied me.
And they won't say that I've grown up
because I was always modest...
I am like that!

And they hide from me...
they hide that I have
dreamy eyes,
plus other primors
that produce sensation.
If I am fierce I know that, on the other hand,
I have the complexion of a doll,
those who say I'm crooked
have not seen me in my nightgown.

The men of me
criticize my voice,
the way I walk,
the way I look, my cough.
They criticize if I already
the line I lost,
they check if I'm coming,
if I come, or if I went.

Many things are said,
but if the bulk is of no interest,
why do they lose their heads
taking care of me?

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