Pato trabaja en una carnicería - Andrés Calamaro

Todo empezó con el chiste que decía

Lo tuyo es mío y lo mío es mío

No comprendimos que eso sería

Lo que algún día nos heriría

Fueron los días, los días de oro

Y el sol brillaba sin preguntar

Después crecimos y nos fuimos del barrio

Pato trabaja en una carnicería

Tiempos aquellos de rosedales

Novias de Flores, primeros cigarrillos

Nunca al colegio, siempre la vida

Y las mañanas del sol aquel

Hemos crecido y visto el mundo en los diarios

El comunismo resultó complicado

Lo tuyo es mío y lo mío es mío

Nos ha llevado a la indiferencia

Tenés excusas, los otros tienen

Que te mantengan para eso están

Sos el burgués mas corrompido que existe

Y te engañas pensando que sos un hippie

Vos explotas a todos y no das nada

Y eso es ser el peor capitalista

Cuando tenés, te hacés el burro

Vivís de arriba, que asco me das

Vos te reís del mundo y de las personas

Pero querés que el mundo te alimente

Otros te proporcionan lo necesario

Y vos seguís creyendo que es lo corriente

Que inútil sos, que mantenido

Mírate un poco, baja de ahí

Siempre estás en artista y te hacés el genio

Cultivas tu aire ausente y despreocupado

Porque te supergusta hacerte el raro

Y tu fama te tiene muy preocupado

Te haces copar, como engañas

Sos de mentira y no servís

Pato trabaja en una carnicería

Pato trabaja en una carnicería

Pato trabaja en una carnicería

It all started with the joke he said

What's yours is mine and what's mine is mine

We did not understand that it would be

What would one day hurt us

Were the days, the golden days

And the sun shone without asking

Then we grew up and left the neighborhood

Duck works in a butcher shop

Those times of rose gardens

Brides of Flowers, first cigarettes

Never to school, always life

And the mornings of the sun that

We've grown up and seen the world in the newspapers

Communism Was Complicated

What's yours is mine and what's mine is mine

It has led us to indifference

You have excuses, the others have

That they keep you, that's what they're for

You are the most corrupt bourgeois that exists

And you fool yourself into thinking you're a hippie

You exploit everyone and give nothing

And that is being the worst capitalist

When you have, you play the donkey

You live from above, you disgust me

You laugh at the world and at people

But you want the world to feed you

Others provide you with what you need

And you continue to believe that it is common

How useless you are, how maintained

Take a look at yourself, come down from there

You are always in artist and you become the genius

You cultivate your absent and carefree air

Because you super like playing weird

And your fame has got you so worried

you make yourself drink, how you cheat

You are a lie and you are useless

Duck works in a butcher shop

Duck works in a butcher shop

Duck works in a butcher shop