Текст и перевод песни Los Piojos - El Balneario de los Doctores Crotos

El Balneario de los Doctores Crotos

Aia-ia-io pagué io
Aia-ia-io pagué
Aia-ia-io pagué io
Aia-ia-io pagué

Aia-ia-io pagué io
Aia-ia-io pagué

Aia-ia-io pagué io
Aia-ia-io pagué

Iba confiado el linyera a la playa
Donde ninguno se baña, sabés
Salud querida, querida eminencia
La diferencia está en el jackel
Es conocida la vida de este croto
Su nombre es Iseka e ignora la ley
Lo indemnizaron con unos porotos
Se volvió loco y dice que es Baley

Aia-ia-io pagué io
Aia-ia-io pagué (en esta casa están todos locos)
Aia-ia-io pagué io
Aia-ia-io pagué

Algunos dicen que era maestro
Otros afirman que era doctor
No hubo dinero para su genio
La cretinada privatizó
Ahora la yuta a veces lo encierra
Y escucha la lucha del Globo Campeón
El profesor y arquero, Iseka
Seca su frente y renuncia al dolor

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Dale a tus ojos rojos para que baile

Para que baile siempre el gran corazón

Dale a tus ojos rojos para que baile

Para que baile siempre el gran corazón

(Corazón)

Dale a tus ojos rojos para que baile

Para que baile siempre el gran corazón

Dale a tus ojos rojos para que baile

Para que baile siempre el gran corazón

El sol, corona de espinas de oro (Aia-ia-io pagué io)
La playa roñosa al amanecer (Aia-ia-io pagué)
Mirá, los crotos fuman fasos rotos (Aia-ia-io pagué io)
Se ríen y toman un mate también (Aia-ia-io pagué)
A veces gritan, escupen, putean (Aia-ia-io pagué io)
Se quejan, les pegan, se dejan de joder (Aia-ia-io pagué)
Después se toman un vino en la arena (Aia-ia-io pagué io)
Se duermen sin pena hasta el amanecer (Aia-ia-io pagué)
El croto no es dueño del tinto que toma (Aia-ia-io pagué io)
De la nafta que lo lleva, ni del camión, ni del tren (Aia-ia-io pagué)
Ni del pucho que se fuma, ni de la lámpara que le cuelga (Aia-ia-io pagué io)
Ni del gas, ni del agua, ni del querosén (Aia-ia-io pagué)
(Aia-ia-io pagué io)
Ni las gallinas, las vacas, la tierra, las latas (Aia-ia-io pagué)
Ni de los aviones que ve (Aia-ia-io pagué io)
Las rutas que recorre, teléfonos que ignora (Aia-ia-io pagué)
Ni de las voces en la radio, ni las noticias de ayer

The Crotos Doctors' Resort

Sheesh I paid
Sheesh I paid
Sheesh I paid
Sheesh I paid

Sheesh I paid
Sheesh I paid

Sheesh I paid
Sheesh I paid

The hobo went to the beach confidently
Where no one bathes, you know
Cheers my dear, my dear eminence
The difference is in the jacket
The life of this hobo is known
His name is Iseka and he ignores the law
They compensated him with some kidney beans
He went crazy and says he's Baley

Sheesh I paid
Sheesh I paid (everyone's crazy in this house)
Sheesh I paid
Sheesh I paid

Some say he was a teacher
Others claim he was a doctor
There was no money for his genius
The jerks privatized
Now the cops lock him up sometimes
And he listens to the struggles of the Globe Champion
The professor and goalkeeper, Iseka
Dries his forehead and renounces the pain

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Give your eyes some red to dance

So that the great heart always dances

Give your eyes some red to dance

So that the great heart always dances

(Heart)

Give your eyes some red to dance

So that the great heart always dances

Give your eyes some red to dance

So that the great heart always dances

The sun, a crown of golden thorns (Sheesh I paid)
The dirty beach at dawn (Sheesh I paid)
Look, the hobos smoke broken joints (Sheesh I paid)
They laugh and drink mate as well (Sheesh I paid)
Sometimes they yell, spit, curse (Sheesh I paid)
They complain, they get beat up, they stop messing around (Sheesh I paid)
Then they drink some wine on the sand (Sheesh I paid)
They fall asleep without any worries until dawn (Sheesh I paid)
The hobo doesn't own the wine he drinks (Sheesh I paid)
The gas that brings him, nor the truck, nor the train, (Sheesh I paid)
Nor the cigarette he smokes, nor the lamp that hangs for him (Sheesh I paid)
Nor the gas, nor the water, nor the kerosene (Sheesh I paid)
(Sheesh I paid)
Nor the chickens, the cows, the land, the cans (Sheesh I paid)
Nor the planes he sees (Sheesh I paid)
The roads he travels, the phones he ignores (Sheesh I paid)
Nor the voices on the radio, nor the news from yesterday