Текст и перевод песни Pancho Varona - Conductores Suicidas (Directo)

Conductores Suicidas (Directo)

No voy a negarte que has marcado estilo,
Que has patentado un modo de andar
Sin despeinarte por el agudísimo filo
De la navaja de esta hespidita ciudad...
Sabias hacer turismo al borde del abismo
Pero creo que de un tiempo a esta parte
Te has deslizado al lado marrón,
Tu que eras un maestro en el difícil arte
De no mojarte bajo un chaparrón.
Buscando en la basura un gramo de locura,
Dime que es falso que ya nunca escribes
Que has empeñado el reloj de Raquel,
Que tu corazón no haya quien lo motive,
Que has perdido siete kilos en un mes,
¿Como te has dejado
Llevar a un callejón sin salida,
El mejor dotado
De los conductores suicidas?
"No es asunto tuyo -me dirás- y punto"
Pero reconoce que es crudo aceptar
Que no hay ser humano que le eche una mano
A quien no se quiere dejar ayudar,
Y búscate la vida, en dirección prohibida,
Pero no impedirás que levante mi vaso
A tu mala salud y te invite a brindar,
Muerta la amistad sabe igual que el fracaso
Y a los dos nos gusta el verbo fracasar,
Así que tu ni caso,
Por no agobiarte paso
De hacerte la cuenta de las papelinas,
De que no te fíe ni rafa el del pub,
De que vendas chapas en ciertas esquinas,
De que te conozcan en cada hospital.
¿Como te has dejado
Llevar a un callejón sin salida,
El mejor dotado
De los conductores suicidas?

Suicidal Drivers (Live)

I won't deny that you've set a style,
That you've patented a way of walking
Without getting ruffled by the sharp edge
Of the knife of this bristly city...
You knew how to do tourism on the edge of the abyss
But I think that for a while now
You've slid to the wrong side,
You who were a master in the difficult art
Of not getting wet in a downpour.
Searching in the garbage for a gram of madness,
Tell me it's not true that you never write anymore
That you've pawned Raquel's watch,
That no one can motivate your heart,
That you've lost seven kilos in a month,
How did you get yourself
Led into a dead end,
The best endowed
Of the suicidal drivers?
"It's none of your business - you'll tell me - period"
But admit that it's hard to accept
That there's no human being who can help out
Someone who doesn't want to be helped,
And get on with your life, in the wrong direction,
But you won't stop me from raising my glass
To your ill health and inviting you to toast,
Dead friendship tastes the same as failure
And we both like the verb to fail,
So don't take any notice,
So as not to overwhelm you
I'll keep count of the joints,
That not even Rafa from the pub will trust you,
That you sell badges on certain corners,
That they know you in every hospital.
How did you get yourself
Led into a dead end,
The best endowed
Of the suicidal drivers?