Paroles et traduction Víctor Manuel - Veinticuatro Horas

Veinticuatro Horas

Ella estaba orgullosa de su raza
Venía de una estirpe renombrada
El primer gran banquete
Que se dio su familia
Fue morder en los labios
De la Reina Cleopatra.
El por parte de padre era otomano
Y recuerda haber sido tan feliz
Que en medio de los valses
Y un entorno convulso
Comieron el cadáver
De Sissi Emperatriz .
Y en este mismo instante
Sobre una gran cagada
Que un yonqui les regala
Donde acaba Madrid
Se disputan su parte
Del botín al mirarse
Comprenden que su raza
Debe sobrevivir...
Ella luego se ensaña con un perro
Al que atrapó algún coche con sus ruedas
Con el deber cumplido
él se va a su faena
Se enreda con los mocos
De algún niño de la escuela.
Lo que resta del día se lo pasan
Como quién se echa al mar en una balsa
Burlando mil venenos
Y cintas engomadas
Y a niños que por gusto
Les arrancan las alas.
Solo son veinticuatro
Sus horas en la Tierra
Se lo toman a pecho
Como quien va a la guerra
Ponen miles de huevos
Que serán moscas luego
Efímeras, eternas
Pegajosas, molestan...
Al terminar su ciclo
Salvada su existencia
No les pesan las alas
Y abandona la escena
Escribe su epitafio
Sobre una herida abierta:
Murió como nació
Feliz entre la mierda.

Twenty-Four Hours

She was proud of her race
She came from a renowned lineage
The first great banquet
That her family had
Was to bite the lips
Of Queen Cleopatra.
Her father's side was Ottoman
And she remembers having been so happy
That amidst the waltzes
And a convulsive environment
They ate the corpse
Of Empress Sissi.
And in this very moment
Over a big piece of shit
That a junkie gives them
Where Madrid ends
They fight over their share
Of the loot when they look at each other
They understand that their race
Must survive...
She then vents her anger on a dog
That was hit by a car
With his duty fulfilled
He goes to his job
He gets tangled in the snot
Of some school boy.
They spend the rest of the day
Like someone who throws themselves into the sea on a raft
Dodging a thousand poisons
And sticky tapes
And children who like to
Tear off their wings.
They are only twenty-four
Their hours on Earth
They take it to heart
Like someone who goes to war
They lay thousands of eggs
That will later be flies
Ephemeral, eternal
Sticky, annoying...
When their cycle ends
Their existence saved
Their wings do not weigh them down
And they leave the scene
Write their epitaph
On an open wound:
She died as she was born
Happy in the shit.