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La Balacera (English translation)

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The Shootout

I drank some mates1 as I stood in the kitchen,
I saw how the sun sprung itself on the world.
I looked at the time, it was a quarter 'til seven,
I already felt tired of waiting.
I started putting on my shirt and jeans,
I put the revolver in the shaft of my boot.
I lit a candle at the feet of San Antonio,
The patron saint of outlaws.
 
I flew on my motorcycle to the La Cucaracha bar
Where in silence, the boys were waiting for me.
Fernet with cola2 and whiskey with cigarettes,
Death smelled of tobacco and coffee.
The hit was more or less well planned,
More than two months finishing up the details.
Two of us robbing the cashiers
And me on the street in a rental car.
 
But you already know how these things happen,
There are always details left out of the script,
Some employee who leans on an alarm,
Some trigger that's in a hurry to respond.
The first shot hit me in my left hand,
I took the revolver from my boot and opened fire.
The police demanded that I give up:
"You're surrounded, there is no way to escape".
 
"It's been ten years," I replied, "that I've been surrounded."
Ten long years that I have not found even one job.
What good is it for me to be alive if I am dead,
I don't even need to wear a mask.
If they heard me, they paid me no mind
In an instant the shooting began.
I ended up flopping3on the sidewalk
After having emptied my magazine.
 
I think about this while I feel that my life
Is going to the side of death,
I have the revolver unloaded, and in my chest,
A very difficult hole to fill.
My face resting on the asphalt,
My hands cold, and even my breath hurts.
I know that it's daytime, but I feel like it's night,
I'll ask San Antonio about that.
 
I don't have anybody and I don't leave many things,
Just a motorcycle at the La Cucaracha bar,
Tell them everything and undo the padlock
She already knows where she's going to wait for me.
 
Thanks!
Submitted by FredaFreda on Sun, 18/10/2020 - 18:56
SpanishSpanish

La Balacera

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