Patotero, rey del bailongo
patotero sentimental,
escondes bajo tu risa
muchas ganas de llorar.
Ya los años se van pasando,
y en mi pecho no entra un querer,
en mi vida tuve muchas, muchas minas,
pero nunca una mujer...
Cuando tengo dos copas de mas,
en mi pecho comienza a surgir,
el recuerdo de aquella fiel mujer
que me quiso de verdad y que ingrato abandone...
De su amor, me burle sin mirar,
que pudiera sentirlo después,
sin pensar que los años al correr
iban crueles a amargar a este rey del cabaret.
Pobrecita como lloraba
cuando ciego la eche a rodar,
la patota me miraba, y …
no es de hombre el aflojar.
Patotero, rey del bailongo
siempre de ella te acordaras
hoy reís, pero en tu risa,
solo hay ganas de llorar.
|
Gangster, king of the milonga
Gangster, sentimental
you hide behind your laughter
much desire to cry.
Already the years are passing by,
and in my chest does not enter an affection
in my life I had many, many broads,
but I never had a woman...
When I have two extra drinks
in my chest begins to appear,
the memory of that faithful woman
who really loved to me and that I, ungrateful, abandoned...
Of her love, I made fun without thinking
that I could begin to regret it later
without thinking that as the years were passing
they were going to embitter this king of the night club.
Poor girl, how she cried
when blindly I sent her away
the gang was watching, and
it is not manly to give in.
Gangster, king of the milonga
you'll always remember her
today you laugh, but in your laughter,
there is only a desire to cry. |
