Текст и перевод песни Efra Ardila - Chocolates, Besos Y Alcohol

Chocolates, Besos Y Alcohol

Voy saliendo de mi casa,
Miro a ver si el bus ya pasa,
Mi vecina me saluda
Con su hija que es la muda,
Yo las miro y les sonrío,
Y a ellas les confío,
Que me encuentro castigado
Pero hoy me voy a volar.
Pues hoy va la niña rica
Que el ojo siempre me pica,
Por la que yo he trabajado
Siendo un pobre abogado,
Con un sueldo de torero,
Que es mejor que el de un obrero,
Y a la que nunca he podido
Darle mi felicidad.
(Pre-coro)
Este plan tiene que funcionar
Es la estrategia perfecta
Chocolate, besos y alcohol
No hay forma más directa
(Coro)
Mientras siento en mis pensamientos
Me miento... de lo linda que estás
Tacho los días de mi calendario
Que contigo, no es un día más
Llegas tú con tus amigas,
El chofer y tus dos primas,
Siete hippies, dos borrachos,
Tu ex-novio el de los cachos,
Pareja de contadores,
Maricadministradores,
Cinco tipos y tres lobas
Que vienen a zandunguear.
Pago el cover a un iguazo,
Llevo un litro bajo el brazo,
Me requisa en la puerta
Ese bouncer de la mierda,
Con esa cara de gorila
Tus amigas le desfilan.
Bailamos sobre la mesa
A nadie le va a importar.
(Pre-coro)
(Coro)
Haciendo fila en las chaquetas,
Guisos te bailan champeta,
Salimos de la mano
Y estaba tu hermano.
Y, sin pedirte permiso,
Tu boca te decomiso,
Y no nos importa,
Quien nos pueda mirar.
(Pre-coro)
(Coro x2)

Chocolates, Kisses and Alcohol

I'm leaving my house,
Looking to see if the bus is passing,
My neighbor greets me
With her mute daughter,
I look at them and smile,
And I confide in them,
That I'm grounded
But today I'm going to fly away.
Because today there's a rich girl
Who always catches my eye,
The one I've worked for
Being a poor lawyer,
With a bullfighter's salary,
Which is better than a worker's,
And to whom I've never been able
To give my happiness.
(Pre-Chorus)
This plan has to work
It's the perfect strategy
Chocolates, kisses and alcohol
There's no more direct way
(Chorus)
As I feel in my thoughts
I lie... about how beautiful you are
I cross off the days of my calendar
That with you, it's not just another day
You arrive with your friends,
The driver and your two cousins,
Seven hippies, two drunks,
Your ex-boyfriend, the one with the horns,
A couple of accountants,
Administrative faggots,
Five guys and three wolves
Who come to party.
I pay the cover to a huge guy,
I carry a liter under my arm,
He checks me at the door
That crappy bouncer,
With that gorilla face
Your friends parade him.
We dance on the table
Nobody's going to care.
(Pre-Chorus)
(Chorus)
Standing in line at the jackets,
Girls are dancing champeta,
We leave hand in hand
And there was your brother.
And, without asking your permission,
I take your mouth away from you,
And we don't care,
Who might be watching us.
(Pre-Chorus)
(Chorus x2)