Leon Gieco — El Argentinito song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "El Argentinito" by Leon Gieco.
Lyrics
Ese pequeño argentinito que llevamos
Va colgado como gajo de la mano
Bien peinado con corbata y mocasín
Va gritando sólo para hacerse ver
Saca la lengua mientras vamos caminando
Y se revuelca entre lo que descarté
Se persigna con el agua de cunetas
De la lluvia de ayer
Picapleitos, paranoico y desconfiado
Va puteando con voz de ventrílocuo
Es apostólico, católico y romano
Delator, miliquito y monitor
Y festejó los goles de aquel mundial
Así los llantos del dolor pudo tapar
Conmemoró con mil banderas argentinas
Al borracho del balcón
Ese pequeño argentinito que llevamos
Va colgado como gajo de la mano
Odia a piquetes y a los pobres de la esquina
Guay si la que maneja el auto es una mina
Junta las ramas con espinas de los parques
Y te las clava en la espalda hasta sangrar
Naturalmente es fracasado y te hace ver
Que aún perdiendo es ganador
Pone pajaritos en la licuadora
Y con un palo tumba horneros de pared
Se hace chupar por la ambulancia y la sirena
Y todos creen que esta allí por familiar
Y cuando ve la 31 del avión
Sueña con topadoras como solución
Vota inútiles y al tiempo te hace creer
Que jamás él los votó
Ese pequeño argentinito que llevamos
Va colgado como gajo de la mano
Orina a todas las macetas de la tía
Y le tira los gatitos del balcón
Pone dulce de leche en los zapatos
De los amigos que quedaron a dormir
Ensarta sapos con la flecha de su arco
Y muestra su trofeo al fin
Periférico, vacío y egoísta
Cree que todo este mundo piensa en él
Rompe botellas en los tachos de comida
Y así los pobres no se acercan ni a ver
Y se lleva la pelota del partido
Porque es suya y es regalo del papá
Va enojado porque el gol que le metieron
No lo deja ya ganar
Lyrics translation
That little Argentinean we carry
He's hanging like a guy by the hand.
Well combed with tie and Moccasin
He's screaming just to be seen
Stick out your tongue as we walk
And it scrambles between what I ruled out
It is pierced with the water of gutters
From yesterday's rain
Pickaplets, paranoid and suspicious
He's fucking with a ventriloquist voice.
He is Apostolic, Catholic and Roman
Whistleblower, milikito and monitor
And celebrated the goals of that World Cup
So the cries of pain could cover
Commemorated with a thousand Argentine flags
The drunk on the balcony
That little Argentinean we carry
He's hanging like a guy by the hand.
He hates pickets and the poor around the corner
Cool if the one driving the car is a mine
Join the spiny branches of the parks
And he sticks them in your back until you bleed
Naturally it's failed and makes you see
That even losing is winning
Put little birds in the blender
And with a stick grave wall bakers
She gets sucked by the ambulance and the siren
And everyone thinks he's there for family
And when you see the 31 on the plane
Dream of bulldozers as a solution
Vote useless and at the same time makes you believe
That he never voted for them
That little Argentinean we carry
He's hanging like a guy by the hand.
Piss all aunt's pots
And throws the kittens off the balcony
She puts milk candy in her shoes
Of the friends who stayed to sleep
Stringing frogs with the arrow of his bow
And show your trophy at last
Peripheral, empty and selfish
He thinks this whole world thinks of him
Breaks bottles in food bins
And so the poor don't even come near to see
And takes the match ball
Because it's his and it's dad's gift
He's angry because the goal they put in
He won't let him win anymore.