Joan Manuel Serrat — Los Macarras de la Moral song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Los Macarras de la Moral" by Joan Manuel Serrat.
Lyrics
Sin prisa pero sin pausa
Como el «calabobos»
Desde las mas tierna infancia
Preparan el cebo
«Si no te comes la sopa
Te llevará el coco»
«Los tocamientos impuros
Te dejaran ciego…»
Y te acosan por la vida
Azuzando el miedo
Pecando en el río turbio
Del pecado y la virtud
Vendiendo gato por liebre
A costa de un credo
Que fabrica platos rotos
Que acabas pagando tú
Son la salsa
De la farsa
El meollo
De un mal rollo
La mecha
De la sospecha
La llama
De la jindama
Son el alma
De la alarma
Del recelo
Y del canguelo
Los chulapos
Del gazapo
Lo macarras
De la moral
Anunciando el apocalipsis
Van de salvadores
Y se les dejas te pierden
Infaliblemente
Manipulan nuestro sueños
Y nuestros temores
Sabedores de que el miedo
Nunca es inocente
Hay que seguirlas a ciegas
Y serles devoto
Creerles a pies juntillas
Y darles de la razón
Que: «el que no se quede quieto
No sale en la foto»
«Quien se sale del rebaño
Destierro y excomunión»
Son la salsa…
Sin prisa pero sin pausa
Esos carcamales
Organizan sus cruzadas
Contra el hombre libre
Mas o menos responsable
De todos los males
Piensan que por su cuenta
Sueñan y lo dicen
Si no fueran tan temibles
Nos darían risa
Si no fueran tan dañinos
Nos darían lastima
Porque como los fantasmas
Sin pausa y sin prisa
No son nada si se les quita la sábana
Son la salsa…
Lyrics translation
Without haste but without pause
Like the " calabobos»
From the most tender childhood
Prepare the bait
"If you don't eat the soup
The coconut will take you»
"The impure touches
They'll make you blind.…»
And they harass you for life
Stirring up fear
Sinning in the murky river
From sin and virtue
Selling cat for hare
At the cost of a creed
Who makes broken dishes
That you end up paying
They're the sauce
From the farce
Crux
From a bad roll
Wick
Of suspicion
Flame
From jindama
They are the soul
From the alarm
Of mistrust
And the crab
Cutlets
Of the gazapo
You're gonna mess it up.
Of morality
Announcing the apocalypse
Van of Saviors
And you let them lose you
Infallibly
They manipulate our dreams
And our fears
Knowing that fear
He's never innocent.
We must follow them blindly
And be devoted to them
Believe them to their feet
And give them reason
That: "he who does not stand still
Not in the picture»
"Who leaves the flock
Banishment and excommunication»
They're the sauce…
Without haste but without pause
Those carcamales
They organize their crusades
Against the free man
But the less responsible
Of all evils
They think that on their own
They dream and say it
If they weren't so fearful
They'd give us a laugh.
If they weren't so harmful
They'd hurt us.
Because like ghosts
Without pause and without haste
They're nothing if you take their sheets off.
They're the sauce…