Paroles et traduction Aposento Alto - 3 Historias Que Contar

3 Historias Que Contar

1, 2, 3 historias ...que contar...

Escucha como empieza la primera historia,
Un padre alcohólico visto como una skoria,
Cuando se emborracha le llega la memoria,
Abusa de su hija, manchando su historia,
Ella habla con mamá y mamá no pone asunto,
Porque duermen juntos, es mentira y punto,
Si no hay de comer en la meza, aguanta sus insultos,
Ella busca el alimento y el vive del bulto,
La niña en la escuela la ven diferente,
La profe le pregunta: ¿Hija, como te sientes,
Te veo deprimida y ese cambio derrepente?,
Y ella cavibaja baja la cabeza y miente,
él hace el ridículo con dos tragos de alcohol,
La luz de su escenario duerme cuando sale el sol,
Ya todo está planeado, prepara su equipaje,
Decidió marcharse y nunca regresar del viaje.

Se imaginan como que todo cambiara,
Que por un sueño del que él ya despertara,
Pero no es un sueño, papá te quiero,
Aunque el alcohol forme parte de tu vida,
Si no nació para que tu la maltratara,
Ni para que su amor bonito se dividiera,
Pero le dieron para que ella se marchara,
Con la lágrima en su cara, porque esa no es su vida.

Escucha como empieza la segunda historia,
Una madre drogadicta que para su hija es una skoria,
Cuando llega mareada pierde la memoria,
Dando el mal ejemplo, manchando su historia,
Ella sangra por dentro, llora por fuera,
Sabe lo que pasa y olvidar todo quisiera,
La mera secretaria y ahora es la gran ramera,
Por la maldita droga se acuesta con cualquiera,
Contesta normal, se siente aburrida,
Se dice asi misma que quiere cambiar su vida,
Llorando dice: ¡ Mami, no te des por vencida!
Mamá no sabe que ella sabe, que morirá de sida,
Ayer mamá murió, siente un gran dolor,
Y su consuelo es una foto de los 70's sin color,
Ya todo está planeado, prepara su equipaje,
Decidió marcharse y nunca regresar del viaje.

Se imaginan como que todo cambiara,
Que por un sueño del que él ya despertara,
Pero no es un sueño, mamá te quiero,
Aunque la droga forme parte de tu vida,
Si no nació para que tu la maltratara,
Ni para que su amor bonito se dividiera,
Pero le dieron para que ella se marchara,
Con la lágrima en su cara, porque esa no es su vida.

Escucha como empieza la tercera historia,
Tiene cinco hijos y uno es una skoria,
Busca el problema en lo que llega su memoria,
Su madre ora para cambiar su historia,
Controla el barrio, es jefe de una nación,
Pero tiene el barrio prendido como un fogón,
Tiene amigos pero más enemigos en la posición,
Aqui no se mide fuerzas, sino el calibre de un cañón,
La vida te dá sorpresas, sorpresas te dá la vida,
Su madre ora y no se dá por vencida,
Sabe que fue cojida para sacarlo de esa vida,
Aunque él esté en un callejón sin salida,
Ya todo está planeado, prepara su equipaje,
Decidió marcharse y nunca regresar del viaje,
Pero como el hijo prodigo volvió con su equipaje,
Y nunca más decidió irse del viaje.

Se imaginan como que todo cambiara,
Que por un sueño del que él ya despertara,
Pero no es un sueño, hijo te quiero,
Aunque la calle forme parte de tu vida,
Si no nació para que tu la maltratara,
Ni para que su amor bonito se dividiera,
No hubo motivo para que él se marchara,
Y con la lágrima en su cara, él regresó con vida.

Si tu vida se vé reflejada en alguna de estas historias,
No es coincidencia, es que porque hay uno, que tiene la solución para ti,
Buscalo, y asi como el hijo prodigo tendrás una oportunidad.

3 Historias que contar...
Aposento Alto

3 Stories to Tell

1, 2, 3 stories ...to tell...

Listen to how the first story begins,
An alcoholic father seen as a slag,
When he gets drunk, he remembers,
He abuses his daughter, staining her history,
She talks to her mom, and mom doesn't care,
Because they sleep together, it's a lie, period,
If there is nothing to eat on the table, put up with his insults,
She seeks food, and he lives off the lump,
The girl at school sees her differently,
The teacher asks her: "Daughter, how do you feel,
I see you depressed and that sudden change?",
And she lowers her head and lies,
He makes a fool of himself with two sips of alcohol,
The light of his stage sleeps when the sun rises,
Everything is planned, he prepares his luggage,
He decided to leave and never return from the trip.

Imagine that everything would change,
That for a dream he already woke up from,
But it's not a dream, Dad I love you,
Even though alcohol is part of your life,
If she was not born for you to mistreat her,
Nor for her beautiful love to be divided,
But they gave it to her so that she could leave,
With tears on her face, because that is not her life.

Listen to how the second story begins,
A drug addict mother who for her daughter is a slag,
When she arrives dizzy she loses her memory,
Setting a bad example, staining her history,
She bleeds inside, cries outside,
She knows what's going on and wants to forget everything,
The mere secretary and now she is the great whore,
Because of the damn drug she sleeps with anyone,
She answers normally, she feels bored,
She tells herself that she wants to change her life,
Crying she says: Mommy, don't give up!
Mom doesn't know that she knows that she will die of AIDS,
Mom died yesterday, she feels a great pain,
And her consolation is a photo from the 70's without color,
Everything is planned, she prepares her luggage,
She decided to leave and never return from the trip.

Imagine that everything would change,
That for a dream he already woke up from,
But it's not a dream, Mom, I love you,
Even though drugs are part of your life,
If she was not born for you to mistreat her,
Nor for her beautiful love to be divided,
But they gave it to her so that she could leave,
With tears on her face, because that is not her life.

Listen to how the third story begins,
She has five children and one is a slag,
He looks for the problem in what his memory arrives,
His mother prays to change her story,
He controls the neighborhood, he's the head of a nation,
But he has the neighborhood on fire like a stove,
He has friends but more enemies in the position,
Here you don't measure strength, but the caliber of a cannon,
Life gives you surprises, surprises life gives you,
His mother prays and does not give up,
She knows she was taken to get him out of that life,
Even if he's in a dead end,
Everything is planned, he prepares his luggage,
He decided to leave and never return from the trip,
But like the prodigal son he returned with his luggage,
And he never decided to leave the trip again.

Imagine that everything would change,
That for a dream he already woke up from,
But it's not a dream, son, I love you,
Even though the street is part of your life,
If she was not born for you to mistreat her,
Nor for her beautiful love to be divided,
There was no reason for him to leave,
And with tears on his face, he came back alive.

If your life is reflected in any of these stories,
It's not a coincidence, it's because there is one who has the solution for you,
Look for him, and like the prodigal son you will have an opportunity.

3 Stories to tell...
Aposento Alto