Blues Del Perro - Pappo

Es mi perro, es perfecto;

Es mi perro, el más perfecto

Cuando voy a la estación;

No hay problema es un perro;

Mira a la gente, mira y no entiende

A esas personas, que aparentan

Estar en California

En noches de siete lunas

Vamos lejos de viaje, no se dónde;

Igual es correcto

Mira y no entiende

Cómo los humanos

Se comen entre sí

En noches de siete lunas

Mira el desierto;

Es mi perro, es correcto

Y ama los blues, ama los blues;

Es perfecto, y odia a esa gente

Que aparenta estar en California

No hay problema es un perro

Es perfecto;

Escucha los blues, ama este blues

Busca fuego, es perfecto

Es mi perro, es correcto;

Ama los blues, blues;

Ama los blues

It's my dog, it's perfect;

He is my dog, the most perfect

When I go to the station;

No problem, he's a dog;

Look at the people, look and don't understand

To those people, who appear

Being in California

On nights of seven moons

We are going far away on a journey, I don't know where;

same is correct

Look and do not understand

how humans

they eat each other

On nights of seven moons

Look at the desert;

It's my dog, that's right

And he loves the blues, he loves the blues;

He's perfect, and he hates those people.

Who appears to be in California

no problem it's a dog

He is perfect;

Listen to the blues, love this blues

Look for fire, it's perfect

It's my dog, that's right;

He loves the blues, blues;

he loves the blues