Rap del Optimista - Joaquín Sabina

Era un grupo de esos que ves en un garito por cien pavos;

Coca, birra y sexo, cresta de almidón, chupa con clavos

Eran cuatro mendas de una intensidad provocadora

Gritándole al mundo: «¡por fían ha llegado nuestra hora!»

Y tocaban rocanrol

Algo inmaduro pero rocanrol

Pelín oscuro pero rocanrol

Bastante duro pero rocanrol

Si no hay futuro ¡viva el rocanrol!

Hasta que llegó el verano

Y les presentaron a un locutor

Que tenía un amigo arreglista

Que era vecino de un productor

Casado con una teclista

Muy vanguardista

Que era la amante

De un elegante representante

Que tiene un socio con mucha vista

Pa hacer negocio

Con los cantantes

Y llegó la Visa, con sus chantajes

Y empezó la prisa de los viajes

Y se acabó la risa

Ya no van a bares, montan sus movidas en privado

Saben adaptarse a las exigencias del mercado;

Seis galas hicieron con el Duque en las municipales

Fueron los terceros de los no-sé-cuántos principales

Ahora tocan puro pop

Intencionado pero puro pop

Pelín pesado pero puro pop

Contra el pasado: ¡larga vida al pop!

Desde que llegó el verano

Y les presentaron a un asesor

De imagen que estaba enrollado

Con la sobrina de un promotor

Cuñado de cierta modista

Que era la esposa de un columnista

De esa revista tan prestigiosa

Por su talento para la cosa

Del lanzamiento de los artistas

Ahora van de yuppies -fotos en «Hola" —

Juran por Snoopy, que es lo que mola

Pasan de las groupies

Hoy tocan el rap del optimista

En vez del blues de la necesidad

Hasta en la consulta del dentista

Suenan por el hilo musical

Quedaron con el voto portugués

Los decimoterceros en Eurovisión

Ellos que juraban comerse la vida

Fue la vida y se los merendó

Y aunque han pisado más de una mierda

Sus zapatos de gamuza azul

Ahora van con Lottuse sobre las moquetas

Y a Solana lo tratan de tú

Que nadie se sienta aludido, a mí

Las moralinas me hacen vomitar

Quise hacer un cuento divertido, sin

Parecido con la realidad

Que se quede cojo de las tres piernas

Cierto crítico que hay por ahí

Si miento cuando digo que nunca pido

Consejos y jamás los di

A no ser al tipejo ese del espejo

Que me vacila cantidad

A veces me hace un corte de mangas y dice

«No hay quien te soporte, chaval»

Al fin y al cabo lo único que pasa

Es que necesitaba componer (pa comer)

Una canción que terminara de una

Maldita vez este elepé

Ya quisiera yo, en lugar de este reggae

Haber escrito Rapsodia en Blue

Chelsea Hotel, Guantanamera

Tatuaje, o She Loves you (ye, ye, ye)

Pedro Navaja, Like a Rolling Stone

Dos gardenias para ti

Mira que eres canalla, No hago

Otra cosa que pensar en ti

Marieta, La estatua del jardín botánico

Moon over Bourbon street

Qué culpa tengo si a lo más que llego

Es a Pongamos que hablo de…

Pongamos que hablo de…

Pongamos que hablo de… maní

Si te quieres con tu novia divertir…

It was a group of those that you see in a joint for a hundred bucks;

Coca, beer and sex, starch crest, sucks with nails

They were four mendas of a provocative intensity

Shouting to the world: “our time has finally come!”

And they played rock and roll

Somewhat immature but rock and roll

dark hair but rock and roll

Pretty hard but rock and roll

If there is no future, long live rock and roll!

Until the summer came

And they were introduced to an announcer

That I had a friend who was an arranger

That he was a neighbor of a producer

married to a keyboardist

very avant-garde

who was the lover

From an elegant representative

Who has a partner with a lot of vision

to do business

with the singers

And the Visa arrived, with its blackmail

And the rush of travel began

And the laughter is over

They no longer go to bars, they make their moves in private

They know how to adapt to market demands;

They did six galas with the Duke in the municipal

They were the third of the I-don't-know-how many main

Now they play pure pop

Intentional but pure pop

A bit heavy but pure pop

Against the past: long live pop!

since summer came

And they were introduced to an advisor

Of image that was rolled up

With the niece of a promoter

Brother-in-law of a certain dressmaker

That she was the wife of a columnist

From that prestigious magazine

Because of her talent for the thing

From the release of the artists

Now they go yuppies -photos in "Hello" —

They swear by Snoopy, that's what he's cool about

They go from the groupies

Today they play the rap of the optimist

Instead of the blues of necessity

Even at the dentist's office

They sound by the musical thread

They stayed with the Portuguese vote

The thirteenth in Eurovision

They who swore to eat life

It was life and he snacked on them

And although they have stepped on more than one shit

His blue suede shoes

Now they go with Lottuse on the carpets

And Solana is treated like you

Let no one feel alluded to, me

The moralinas make me vomit

I wanted to make a funny story, without

resemblance to reality

Let him be lame in all three legs

Some critic out there

Yes I lie when I say I never ask

Advice and I never gave it

Unless it's that little guy in the mirror

that hesitates me quantity

Sometimes he cuts my sleeves and says

“No one can stand you, kid”

After all, the only thing that happens

Is that I needed to compose (to eat)

A song that ended with a

damn time this lp

I would like to, instead of this reggae

Having written Rhapsody in Blue

Chelsea Hotel, Guantanamera

Tattoo, or she She Loves you (ye, ye, ye)

Pedro Navaja, Like a Rolling Stone

Two gardenias for you

Look, you're a scoundrel, I don't

another thing to think about you

Marieta, The statue of the botanical garden

moon over bourbon street

What fault do I have if at the most I get

It is Let's say I'm talking about...

Let's say I'm talking about...

Let's say I'm talking about... peanuts

If you want to have fun with your girlfriend...