El Ciruja

With anger and watching closely
From the corner of his eye
He has directed his steps
Straight to the slum
He is led by the feeling
That in that little field
The little shack no longer exists
That was his only ideal

He remembered those hours of revelry
When he didn't have a job
He would hang out at the corner
Pickpocketing away
And in the alleys he would get high
When he wasn't being watched by the cops
He would stab without hesitation
A girl would whisper sweet nothings in his ear
And played with his passion

He was a mosaic of the streets
Playing the role of a thief
Daughter of a healer
A pickpocket by profession
But she was deceived
By a pimp from Vidalita
And she would give him the money
That she stole from the thug

Face to face showing courage
The two tough guys fought in the slum
And the Homeless Man, who was ready for the fight
Made the pimp pay dearly for his love
Now free from jail and without the girl
Sipping a bit of sun on the sidewalk
He thinks for a moment about the love of the thief
And sobs in his pain