More songs by The Cure
Description
Composer Lyricist, Vocalist, Lyricist, Composer: Robert Smith
Composer: Michael Dempsey
Producer: Chris Parry
Engineer: Mike Hedges
Recording Second Engineer: Mike Dutton
Composer: Laurence Tolhurst
Lyrics and translation
Original
El hijo de rana, rin rin rincuajo, salió esta mañana, fintieso y muy majo.
Con pantalón corto, corbata a la moda, sombrero encintado y chupa de boda.
¡Martín, no te salgas!
El hijo de Juana, Martín Lizarazo, salió esta mañana a buscar trabajo.
De alma muy noble y sin guerra y partido, sin ningún fantasma, auceo, tiro fijo. A medio camino salió tiro fijo.
«Martín, ven conmigo y si no te castigo. Tu vida y familia las tengo en la mira.
Con armas en mano somos la guerrilla».
«Muchacho, no salgas», le grita mamá, pero el arte un gesto y orondo se va.
«Martín, no te salgas», le grita mamá, pero es colombiano y confiado se va. Escapó como pudo y siguió su camino.
Buscando trabajo encontró su destino. Llegó a unos parajes de selvas y valles.
Aquí estoy tranquilo, sin balas ni escapes. Pasaron los días, Martín en billeta. Llegaron los paras,
Castaño y Chupeta.
«Martín, me contaron que eres llavería del Mono Jojoy y de toda su guerrilla».
«Muchacho, no salgas», le grita mamá, pero es colombiano y confiado se va. «Más no positivo», le grita mamá. «Más no positivo» y confiado se va.
Pasaron los días, Martín huiría de tanta violencia y de tanta injusticia.
Siguió su camino, encontróse al gobierno, ejército, estado. Pensó: «Estoy salvado».
«Martín está con los paras, camina con la guerrilla.
Martín está jugando a hacerte el marica. Martín está ahora llorando y a su madre está recordando.
Si no hablas lo que sabes, te matamos, pelado».
«Muchacho, no salgas», le grita mamá, pero es colombiano y confiado se va. «Más no positivo», le grita mamá.
«Más no positivo» y confiado se va.
English translation
The son of a frog, rin rin rincuajo, came out this morning, smart and very nice.
With shorts, fashionable tie, ribbon hat and wedding jacket.
Martin, don't get out!
Juana's son, Martín Lizarazo, went out this morning to look for work.
With a very noble soul and without war or party, without any ghost, auceo, fixed shot. Halfway there, a steady shot came out.
«Martín, come with me and if not I will punish you. I have your life and family in my sights.
"With weapons in hand we are the guerrilla."
"Boy, don't go out," Mom yells at him, but Art makes a gesture and he leaves.
“Martín, don't get out,” Mom yells at him, but he is Colombian and he confidently leaves. He escaped as best he could and continued on his way.
Looking for work he found his destiny. He arrived at some places of jungles and valleys.
Here I am calm, without bullets or escapes. The days passed, Martín on a ticket. The paramilitaries arrived,
Chestnut and Chupeta.
"Martín, they told me that you are the keyman of Mono Jojoy and all his guerrillas."
"Boy, don't go out," Mom yells at him, but he's Colombian and he confidently leaves. “No more positive,” Mom yells. "More not positive" and confident he leaves.
Days passed, Martín would flee from so much violence and injustice.
He continued on his way, he found the government, the army, the state. He thought: "I am saved."
«Martín is with the paramilitaries, he walks with the guerrillas.
Martín is playing at being a sissy. Martín is now crying and he is remembering his mother.
If you don't speak what you know, we'll kill you, you fool.
"Boy, don't go out," Mom yells at him, but he's Colombian and he confidently leaves. “No more positive,” Mom yells.
"More not positive" and confident he leaves.