Текст и перевод песни El Komander - El Corrido del Viejon

El Corrido del Viejon

Quien iba a pensar que el viejo
Cuando estaba joven
Pero sanguinario
Mataba enterraba
Mochaba cabezas
No habia poder suficiente
Ni ley en el mundo
Que lo detuviera

Vivio en la Casa de Piedra
Y en la Rumorosa
Cercas de Tijuana
Donde torturaba
Las tripas sacaba
A todos sus enemigos
Les sembrara el miedo
Asi lo respetaban

Montado en un cuaco blanco
Bajaba del cerro
Buscando mujeres
Robaba los bancos
Pa darse placeres
Ranchero y mal encachado
Se terciaba un rifle
Tambien un machete

Aborrecia al gobierno
Porque le mataron
A su unico hermano
Cuando estaba plebe
Arriando el ganado
Por eso a los federales
Mataba con saña
En honor a su hermano

Un hombre puesto y valiente
Con huellas de guerra
Por todo su cuerpo
La muerte en la sangre
Caracter violento
Y arremango a federales
Rurales y guachos
En aquellos tiempos

Ahora vive en Culiacan
Ya no anda en el cuaco
Trae una Cheyene
Una super del once
Pal que se atraviese
Y aunque pasaron los años
Y el viejo este viejo
Aun se defiende

The Ballad of the Old Man

Who would have thought that the old man,
When he was young,
But a bloodthirsty man
Who killed and buried,
Who cut off heads,
There was no power sufficient,
No law in the world
That could stop him.

He lived in the House of Stone
And in the Rumorosa Pass,
Near Tijuana,
Where he tortured,
He ripped out intestines,
Of all his enemies,
He would sow fear
That's how he was respected.

Mounted on a white horse,
He would come down from the hills,
Looking for women,
He robbed banks
To indulge himself,
A rancher and a bad man,
He would sling a rifle
And a machete.

He hated the government,
Because they killed
His only brother,
When he was a boy,
Driving cattle,
That's why federales,
He killed with cruelty,
In honor of his brother.

A daring and valiant man,
With scars of war
All over his body,
Death in his blood,
A violent character,
He would slaughter federales,
Rurales and guachos,
In those days.

Now he lives in Culiacan,
He no longer rides a horse,
He drives a Cheyenne,
A super eleven,
For whoever gets in his way,
And even though the years have passed,
And the old man is old,
He still defends himself.