Homero Manzi — El último organito song lyrics and translation

The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "El último organito" by Homero Manzi.

Lyrics

Las ruedas embarradas del último organito
Vendrán desde la tarde buscando el arrabal
Con un caballo flaco, un rengo y un monito
Y un coro de muchachas vestidas de percal
Con pasos apagados, elegirá la esquina
Donde se mezclen luces de luna y almacén
Para que bailen valses detrás de la hornacina
La pálida marquesa y el pálido marqués
El último organito irá de puerta en puerta
Hasta encontrar la casa de la vecina muerta
De la vecina aquella que se cansó de amar;
Y allí molerá tangos para que llore el ciego
El ciego inconsolable del verso de Carriego
Que fuma, fuma y fuma sentado en el umbral
Tendrá una caja blanca, el último organito
Y el asma del otoño sacudirá su son
Y adornarán sus tablas cabezas de angelitos
Y el eco de su piano será como un adiós
Saludarán su ausencia las novias encerradas
Abriendo las persianas detrás de su canción
Y el último organito se perderá en la nada
Y el alma del suburbio se quedará sin voz
El último organito irá de puerta en puerta
Hasta encontrar la casa de la vecina muerta
De la vecina aquella que se cansó de amar;
Y allí molerá tangos para que llore el ciego
El ciego inconsolable del verso de Carriego
Que fuma, fuma y fuma sentado en el umbral

Lyrics translation

The muddy wheels of the last organ
They will come from the afternoon looking for the suburbs
With a skinny horse, a rengo and a monkey
And a chorus of girls dressed in percale
With steps off, you will choose the corner
Where Moonlight and warehouse mix
For waltzes to dance behind the Horn
The pale Marquise and the pale Marquis
The last organ will go door to door
Until we find the dead neighbor's House
From the neighbor the one who got tired of loving;
And there he shall grind tangos for the blind to cry
The inconsolable blind man of Carriego's verse
Who smokes, smokes and smokes sitting on the threshold
It will have a white box, the last little organ
And autumn asthma will shake your son
And they shall adorn their boards with the heads of Angels
And the echo of his piano will be like Goodbye
Their absence will be greeted by the imprisoned brides
Opening the blinds behind his song
And the last little organ will be lost in nothing
And the soul of the suburb will be speechless
The last organ will go door to door
Until we find the dead neighbor's House
From the neighbor the one who got tired of loving;
And there he shall grind tangos for the blind to cry
The inconsolable blind man of Carriego's verse
Who smokes, smokes and smokes sitting on the threshold