Barajando

With life's cards half well made up,
Like the crooked card players from the cartel,
My drumming experience and the well-worn 30s,
I wandered through those neighborhoods to embody the troubadour.

Assisted by my charming shopkeeper face
Working for a well-off family,
And my tin ring with a mirror inside,
I've fried many fools, like frogs in a pan.

But, on the other hand, a chick that had me crazy
And for whom I even walked with my back turned,
She waxed me with her well-prepared little game
That I even pulled the hair from my hands in frustration.

While I always played with the mule well cinched,
She, playing with a rich and fancy guy,
Took the red pill, properly settled,
And in the canvas of the goats, she knocked me out in the fourth round.

They gave her to me like a fool, stuck with saliva,
But I don't lose my cool for a bad hand,
And if I'm left scratching like a cat on its back,
I console myself by pocketing the experience I gained.

In the deck of life, when cards are women,
Even if I wear the well-worn 33s for love,
It's useless to cling to love with pins,
If the chick isn't straight and without tricks.

But, on the other hand, a chick that had me crazy
And for whom I even walked with my back turned,
She waxed me with her well-prepared little game
That I even pulled the hair from my hands in frustration.

While I always played with the mule well cinched,
She, playing with a rich and fancy guy,
Took the red pill, properly settled,
And in the canvas of oblivion, she knocked me out in the fourth round.