Botija maula [English translation]

I never was a pretty boy, nor in primary nor in high school

I wasn't ugly either, I was just an average Joe

I wasn't the genius of the class, nor the beach Casanova

I wasn't the quiet clever nor the boastful dandy

But when I was fourteen, when things were blue

The curious fireflies were shining on me

And the girls liked my guitar and my long hair

And the flannel beret of the Emmaus sales

But I was a good for nothing (good for nothing) who slacked in the end (good for nothing)

I never achieved anything, only poetry and rock and roll

If the ladies came, I took them home

And like a brown paper, oh! I was wrinkled in a corner

From the school door, walking to the corner

Chatting with the girls, I was a professor

I talked to them about syndicates, the Che and advocacy

Keeping the respectable distance of a man

The girls were looking at me to see if I kiss them

And I was talking about process and revolution

But when they brought their cheeks too close

My knees under the pants were trembling

(What a good for nothing), yelled the old men

(Grab her by the hand, you big dumbass

What a good for nothing, they traumatized you in the church

You don't reject such thing, God won't forgive you)

With the passage of time, I found out how does it work

Who wins in experience, has a champion plate

And entangled in the wings and the legs of the princesses

You lose your head if you fight against love

Enough close, to keep myself away

I'm fooling the mirrors of this dark alley

For fear that the boy answers me from the school

You're still the good for nothing whose heart fails

What a good for nothing, answer the mirrors

(You'll grow old, avoiding love

What a good for nothing), my parents rant

Who knows if suddenly I straighten up