Voy En El Metro

Goodbye my beautiful Tacuba,
beautiful and cheerful land,
I'm leaving your Legaria,
your Marina and your Pensil.
I'm leaving, the metro takes me for a peso to Tasqueña;
if I don't return in two hours,
keep a grave for me here.

Descending to the platforms
I heard this chant:
-when the trains arrive
don't rush to get in,
if in seventeen seconds
you haven't made it, don't force it,
don't step off the sidewalk
or you could get roasted.

I'm on the subway, how big,
how fast, how clean!
What a difference from my compadre Jilemón's bus
that goes to the cemetery!

Here they don't allow turkeys,
tamarinds, buzzards,
crates with corn,
sacks with coal.

-Get away from the door!-,
and right away I move.
And the lady continued:
-Get closer over there!,
don't smoke!-, I don't smoke,
she's already on my case;
no matter how hard I look for her,
I can't find her.

Goodbye my beautiful Tacuba,
we've passed Cuitláhuac,
we've passed Popotla
and the military school;
I'm starting to regret
not having taken the waters;
if this nostalgia continues,
I'll get off at Normal.

I'm on the subway...