Murgueros

When I left you at your house,
The night was dark and there was no wind,
Just a tree in the fog,
It looked like a lost and very slow ship.

I took my old harmonica,
The echo sounded in the empty streets,
From afar came a lament,
Like a breathless cry of agony.

I wanted to shorten the path,
Crossing through a huge wasteland,
The moan sounded again, closer,
And a cold chill ran down my back.

And I lost,
What I have of seriousness.
And I saw myself,
In the middle of a cemetery.

And at that moment,
I began to tremble,
Crossing the fog,
I could see them coming.

We are the murgueros, who return
From beneath the earth.
We are the murgueros, who return
To denounce miseries.

After escaping screaming,
Leaving the horror not far behind,
Running, I got on a bus
That, although not full in the night.

Everyone with their heads down,
In dark overcoats and bowler hats,
They all seemed asleep,
And no one made a sound in the silence.

And I saw her,
She was a sequin.
And I felt,
The doors closing.

And the whole passage,
Looked at me from the inside,
And turning around,
The driver shouted at me.

We are the murgueros, who return
From beneath the earth.
We are the murgueros, who return
To denounce miseries.

I arrived crazy and sweaty,
I thought I must have had a high fever.
Quietly and carefully
I entered so that grandma wouldn't wake up.

I opened the cupboard for the old lady
I took what was left of the brandy.

And I heard it,
That noise in her room.
And I saw her,
When the door opened.

And even though it was my grandmother,
I had no reaction,
Crossing the hallway,
She shook her nightgown.

We are the murgueros, who return
From beneath the earth.
We are the murgueros, who return
To denounce miseries.