Eres Zapato Pisado - ANTONIO AGUILAR

Ay ay ay!

Chancla de mula de rancho

Re torcida y fea, fea fea fea

Zapato de media zuela

Ya te pise y ahi te dejo

Cuando nuevesito estabas

Yo te bolie muy parejo

Pero ahora ni el brillo agarras

Ere puro cuero viejo (y arrugao)

Me diste mil tropezones

Querias dejarme tirado

Con todos tus resbalones

Quedates muy desgastado

Solo te quedan tacones

Y clavos que te he dejado

Eres zapato pisado

Paseado por onde quiera

Ya tienes la horma perdida

Tu numero es de cualquiera

Con todos das la medida

Y hasta te sobra carrera

Ay ay ay!

Si mujer

Eres de un malnil, muy pareja

Y eres como la mazorca, que donde quiera se desgrana

Sigue arrastrando en el suelo

Dale tu amor a cualquiera

Sigue gozando la vida

Al cabo nada te queda

Eres de zuela corrida

Yo te gaste la primera

La chacla vieja que tiro

Que la recoja el que quiera

Al que le guste el partido

Que te haga su compañera

Al cabo no vivo engreido

Chanclas hay por donde quera

Eres zapato pisado

Paseado por onde quiera (como bota retorcida)

Ya tienes la horma perdida

Tu numero es de cualquiera

Con todos das la medida

Y hasta te sobra carrera

Ay ay ay!

Ranch Mule Flip Flop

Twisted and ugly, ugly ugly ugly

Half shoe

I already stepped on you and I'll leave you there

when you were new

I played you very even

But now you don't even grab the shine

You are pure old leather (and wrinkled)

You gave me a thousand trips

you wanted to leave me lying

With all your slips

you stay very worn

You only have heels left

And nails that I have left you

you are shoe stepped on

strolled wherever you want

You already have the lost last

Your number belongs to anyone

With all you give the measure

And you even have plenty of career

Ay ay ay!

Yes woman

You are from a malnil, very even

And you are like the cob, that wherever it shells

Keep dragging on the ground

Give your love to anyone

keep enjoying life

After all, you have nothing left

You are from zuela corrida

I spent the first

The old chacla that I throw away

Let whoever wants pick it up

who likes the game

make you his partner

After all, I don't live conceited

Flip flops are everywhere

you are shoe stepped on

Strolled wherever you want (like a twisted boot)

You already have the lost last

Your number belongs to anyone

With all you give the measure

And you even have plenty of career