Paroles et traduction Raphael - El cantor
Tener
que
contentar
a
tanta
genteA
la
hora
de
cantar
una
cancionPor
miedo
a
mantenerse,
por
miedo
a
mantenerseY
a
la
opinion
ligera
de
un
seÑor
My
dear,
you
ask
me
to
please
everyoneWhen
I
sing
a
song,
for
fear
of
fading
awayFor
fear
of
fading
away,
and
the
fickle
opinion
of
some
lord
No
vengo
a
demostrar
nada
de
nadaSi
canto
es
porque
asi
lo
quiso
diosY
un
dia
soy
payaso,
rey,
arlequin
o
acasoUn
majadero
romantico
soy
yo
I
come
not
to
prove
anything
at
all,
my
loveIf
I
sing,
it's
because
God
willed
it
soOne
day
I'm
a
clown,
a
king,
a
harlequin,
or
perhapsA
romantic
fool,
it's
true
Que
no
esta
al
dia
ya
mi
melodiaEsta
no
se
vende
igual
que
un
jabonY
no
hay
un
rincon
a
la
concesionYo
canto
al
obrero
como
al
patronAl
niÑo,
al
anciano,
al
amor...
a
eso
le
canto
yo
My
melody
may
not
be
in
fashion,
my
sweetIt
doesn't
sell
like
soap,
it's
trueThere's
no
place
for
it
in
the
marketplaceI
sing
to
the
worker
as
well
as
the
bossTo
the
child,
the
elderly,
to
love...
that's
what
I
sing
about
Pero
tener
que
contentar
a
tanta
genteA
la
hora
simple
de
cantar
una
cancionPor
miedo
a
mantenerse,
por
miedo
a
mantenerseY
a
la
opinion
ligera
de
cualquier
seÑor
But
having
to
please
so
many,
my
darlingWhen
it's
simply
time
to
sing
a
songFor
fear
of
fading
away,
for
fear
of
fading
awayAnd
the
fickle
opinion
of
any
lord
No
vengo
a
demostrar
nada
de
nadaSi
canto
es
porque
asi
lo
quiso
diosY
un
dia
soy
un
payaso,
rey,
arlequin
o
acasoUn
majadero
romantico
soy
yo
I
come
not
to
prove
anything
at
all,
my
loveIf
I
sing,
it's
because
God
willed
it
soOne
day
I'm
a
clown,
a
king,
a
harlequin,
or
perhapsA
romantic
fool,
it's
true
Que
no
esta
al
dia
ya
mi
melodiaEsta
no
se
vende
igual
que
un
jabonY
no
hay
un
rincon
a
la
concesionYo
canto
al
obrero
como
al
patronAl
niÑo,
al
anciano,
al
amor...
a
eso
le
canto
yoY
no
hay
un
rincon
a
la
concesionYo
canto
al
obrero
como
al
patronAl
niÑo,
al
anciano,
a
lo
hermoso...
a
eso
le
canto
yo
My
melody
may
not
be
in
fashion,
my
sweetIt
doesn't
sell
like
soap,
it's
trueThere's
no
place
for
it
in
the
marketplaceI
sing
to
the
worker
as
well
as
the
bossTo
the
child,
the
elderly,
to
the
beautiful...
that's
what
I
sing
aboutThere's
no
place
for
it
in
the
marketplaceI
sing
to
the
worker
as
well
as
the
bossTo
the
child,
the
elderly,
to
the
lovely...
that's
what
I
sing
about
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Writer(s): Maria D. Ostiz
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