Onda Callejera - Ry Cooder

Era la medianoche, when oimos the scream

«Se requieren cien taxis en el almeria de Chavez Ravine.»

Un monton de soldados, jovenes y enganados

Llevaron su bronca to Downtown LA

Contra Los Pachucos, sin saber porque

Broto un desmadre, por tipo acomodado

Sobre un pedazo de tierra injustamente robado

El precio en sangre que se saco de mi gente

Hasta tal dia mancha La Loma y el Palo Verde

Como duele el recuerdo si me pongo a pensar

En el mal gusto de vida y tracion dineral

Una bola de pinches, sin corazon, y falso piedad

Por llenarse las bolsas se van a quemar

Onda callejera, onda sin honor

Maldita onda, onda de lo peor

Onda de lo peor

It was midnight, when we heard the scream

"One hundred taxis are required in the Almeria de Chavez Ravine."

A bunch of soldiers, young and deluded

They took their fight to Downtown LA

Against Los Pachucos, without knowing why

I sprout a mess, for a well-to-do type

On a piece of land wrongfully stolen

The price in blood that was taken from my people

Until such a day stains La Loma and Palo Verde

How the memory hurts if I start to think

In the bad taste of life and money

A ball of pricks, without a heart, and false mercy

To fill the bags are going to burn

Street wave, wave without honor

Damn wave, wave of the worst

Wave of the worst