Son cuatro días [English translation]

While the city sleeps,

a jazz musician is playing

in a dim venue by the sea.

You stare at me, I can see a woman name

written in your tired eyes.

Fiery musical notes escape from the guitar,

glass chords going up to eternity.

Old love songs, old poems.

Among smoke and alcohol,

the night sounds like jazz.

While the city sleeps,

a black girl comes into the venue.

She seems drunk,

but who isn’t?

While the city sleeps,

a black girl comes into the venue.

She shouts that the white people stink.

Light-years of loneliness.

Remember me when I leave.

The sea kisses the gray sand,

and in the city, night sings.

Sitting in a corner,

watching how two cats are romping.

How sad shape,

to be the king of creation.

• Artist:El Último de la Fila
• Album:Nuevas Mezclas